Ad Astra Per Aspera
by lahmrh
Summary: K/S Academy AU. As he begins his second year at Starfleet Academy, Spock has all but given up on finding acceptance from his fellow students, convincing himself he's better off alone. First-year cadet Jim Kirk makes it his mission to change that, and ends up succeeding in ways neither of them thought possible.
1. First Meeting

**Chapter 1 – First Meeting**

When Spock is informed, shortly before his second year at the Academy, that he will be getting a new advisor, he assimilates the news and moves on, barely giving it a second thought. The scheduled meetings have never been anything more than a formality – lasting only long enough for Captain Wu to smile and tell him to keep up the good work – and he assumes that will not change.

It only takes one meeting with Commander Pike for him to realise his assumptions are deeply wrong.

It starts off much the same as the other meetings, with Pike complimenting him on his superlative marks in his first-year classes. "Top of the class in six separate courses and at least fifth in all of them," Pike says. "Very impressive."

Spock inclines his head, accepting the compliment.

"However," he continues, and Spock blinks. "I have some concerns about the non-academic side of your tenure here."

Spock tenses. "I'm not sure I understand, sir."

Pike glances briefly at his computer screen. "You've expressed a wish to serve on a starship once you graduate the Academy."

"Yes," Spock agrees, although he is unsure whether it is meant to be a question.

Pike studies him. "You're aware, of course, that this will require you to work in close quarters with several hundred other people, most of whom will be human?"

"Yes, sir."

Pike frowns. "In such a situation, academic attainment, while praiseworthy, is not the only thing that matters. I'm concerned about your ability to socialise with your human colleagues."

Spock stays silent. If he is honest, he has some concerns of his own, but he does not like where this conversation is leading.

Pike looks back at his computer. "I've spoken to some of your instructors, and they agreed with me." He gives Spock a brief smile and adds, "Although they all stressed that you are an excellent student."

Before Spock can respond he is back to business, continuing, "So, here's what we're going to do." He picks up a PADD and begins tapping at it with the stylus. "I'm sending you a list of Academy groups and clubs. You are going to join at least one of them, and get back to me by the end of this week. Is that acceptable?"

Spock frowns, but knows better than to argue. "Yes, sir," he replies quietly.

Pike glances up from his PADD and nods. "All right then. If there isn't anything else, you're dismissed."

Spock nods and leaves swiftly, his mind running over Pike's words. There is a certain logic to the suggestion, but something inside him rejects the idea. He likes spending time alone, and his previous attempts to socialise with his human classmates have been dismal failures. Still, he has made a promise and does not intend to break it.

Once back in his room he pulls out his PADD and begins to look through the list of clubs, searching for the least objectionable option.

The Non-human Students Club immediately catches his eye, but as the purpose of this exercise is for him to interact with humans, such a club would be somewhat counterproductive. He mentally crosses it off his list and continues searching.

After going through the whole list, he decides on the Chess Club. He has some familiarity with the game through playing it with his mother, and such a club seems unlikely to attract the kind of loud and boisterous humans he most wishes to avoid.

Decision made, he makes a note of the first meeting – tomorrow at 1900 – then sends a message to Commander Pike informing him of his choice.

As he goes through that night's meditation, he can only hope that it is not a decision he will come to regret.

x x x

The following evening, he arrives at the appointed room a full ten minutes prior to the scheduled start of the meeting. There are only two students already in attendance, one male and one female, both human. They are busily setting up chessboards around the room, but look up as he enters and greet him warmly, if slightly hesitantly.

"Are you here for Chess Club?" the girl asks, coming over to him.

Spock nods, and she smiles, brushing a strand of red hair out of her face. "I haven't seen you before. Is this your first time?"

Spock nods again, before mentally shaking himself and forcing out a verbal response. "Yes."

She nods. "Well, I'm Tina, and that's Nate." She indicates the dark-skinned boy on the other side of the classroom, and he raises a hand before going back to doling out chess pieces. "The rest of the club should be along soon. We're expecting a lot of new people, so you should fit right in."

_I sincerely doubt that_, Spock thinks, _seeing as I have never fit in anywhere._ But he keeps his scepticism on the matter to himself and merely nods.

Tina opens her mouth to say something else, but Spock interrupts her. "If it is acceptable, I would like to practice a little before the others arrive."

Her smile dims and he realises he may have been too abrupt. But she recovers herself and nods, gesturing in the general direction of the tables. "Sure, go ahead."

Spock inclines his head in acknowledgement and makes his way over to a table in the corner. He turns the board so that the white pieces are on his side and sits down, intending to recreate a game he played with the computer a few days ago. Perhaps a more tangible visual representation will help him understand where he went wrong.

He quickly becomes engrossed, his eidetic memory taking him quickly through each move of the game. He is so focused on his memories that he doesn't notice the boy approaching him until he speaks.

"Mind if I join you?"

Spock blinks, startled out of his thoughts, and only just manages to keep his surprise from showing on his face. He looks up to see a boy a little younger than him standing by his table. He has dark-blond hair, and his eyes are bright with interest as he looks at Spock.

Spock glances around and sees that the room has filled up quite a bit since he sat down, but there are still several unclaimed tables. He does not understand why this boy should want to sit with him.

The boy's expression changes to a frown and Spock realises he hasn't actually answered the question. "Yes," he says, then shakes his head. "I mean no. I do not mind."

"Great." The boy grins and slides into the seat opposite. "I'm Jim. Jim Kirk," he says, then shrugs, adding, "Well, actually it's _James_ Kirk, but everyone calls me Jim."

"My name is Spock," Spock replies. "It is... nice to meet you."

"And you," Jim returns easily. "I've never met a Vulcan before."

Spock decides not to pursue that line of thought. "Would you like to play white or black?" he asks, as he starts to reset the chessboard.

Jim reaches out to help him. "I'll let you decide," he says, giving Spock another warm smile. Spock glances away uncertainly and concentrates on setting up the pieces.

When he is done, he turns the board so that the white pieces are on Jim's side.

Jim raises his eyebrows in response. "Feeling confident, are we?" he asks.

Spock stares at him blankly. "I am not capable of that emotion," he replies.

Jim shrugs. "If you say so." He reaches for a pawn, and the game begins.

It isn't long before Spock realises he may have underestimated his opponent. Jim's style of play may be illogical, but it is surprisingly effective, and Spock finds himself having to fight for his victory.

By the time he announces, "Checkmate," Spock is almost enjoying himself. Jim is the most stimulating opponent he has had in years.

"You play well," he says as they set up the board for a second round.

"So do you," Jim returns. "I haven't had a game like that in years."

Spock blinks at the inadvertent echo of his own thoughts. "Neither have I," he replies.

Jim smiles, then turns his attention to replacing the pieces on the board. When all the pieces have been returned to their place, he sits back and asks, "Do many people on Vulcan play chess?"

"Some," Spock replies. "However, it is not common." He remembers asking T'Pring to play, once, and how she looked at him as if he were crazy. "It is considered the province of humans."

"Hasn't stopped you," Jim notes, and Spock blinks. Even now, after more than a year living among humans, it still causes a slight spark of exhilaration to be seen as just another Vulcan, no different from any other. It is a particular peculiarity that he seems to blend in better as one of perhaps half a dozen Vulcans than he did when he was surrounded by millions of them.

"No," he agrees, not bothering to correct Jim's assumption. "It hasn't." Then, in an attempt to change the subject, he adds, "How long have you been playing?"

Jim reaches out and fiddles with a white pawn. "Since I was little. My mom taught me. She's really good." He leans forward, closing his hand around the pawn. "She's the reason I joined this club, actually. She told me about all the tournaments she used to enter when she was at the academy, and I guess it's a way of feeling closer to her."

Another thing they have in common, but Spock is more interested in something else Jim has said. "Your mother is in Starfleet?"

"Was," Jim corrects. "My dad, too. They actually met right here at the academy."

"In the chess club?" Spock asks, raising an eyebrow.

Jim laughs. "No! Dad hates chess. They met in one of the unarmed combat courses." He grins and adds, "The way mom tells it, she beat him up half a dozen times and then asked him out for coffee."

"Humans have very strange courting rituals," Spock observes, sending Jim into a fresh wave of laughter.

"I like you," Jim says, when he has recovered. It's clearly just a figure of speech, not indicative of any real feelings, but Spock feels a strange warmth settle in his chest regardless. He does not think anyone aside from his mother has ever said that to him before.

He glances down, away from Jim's smiling face, and takes a deep breath to steady himself. _You are a Vulcan. Act like one._ He raises his eyes and fixes his gaze on Jim's hand. "If you would replace the pawn, perhaps we could have another game?"

Jim looks down at his hand. "Oh, sorry." He swiftly returns the pawn to its rightful place on the board and then turns the board so that the white pieces face Spock. "You can go first this time."

Spock raises an eyebrow, but he is still slightly shaken from Jim's earlier words and does not argue. He moves a pawn at random, and only afterwards realises it is the one Jim was fiddling with.

They talk more as they play. Spock learns that Jim's father was a Starfleet captain, now retired, and that Jim has chosen Command track in the hopes of following in his footsteps. The warmth and affection in Jim's eyes when he speaks of his father makes Spock wonder what it would be like to have that kind of relationship with his own father. The thought makes him ache, and he is relieved when Jim finally changes the subject.

Their second game lasts longer than the first, and they have not finished by the time Tina claps her hands and calls the meeting to a close.

"Damn!" Jim says. "Just as I was winning."

Spock stares at him. "You are not winning," he counters. "You are three pieces down, and I was just about to take your second bishop."

Jim doesn't look in the least perturbed by his words. "Yes, but I had a plan." His eyes light up suddenly, and he begins rummaging in his bag. "I have an idea."

"Indeed?" Spock asks, as Jim straightens up, holding a PADD and looking triumphant.

Jim nods. "I'll take a picture of the board, and then we can start off from where we left off next week." He holds the PADD up in front of the chessboard and taps the screen a few times. "There."

Spock inclines his head. "That was not necessary. Vulcans have eidetic memory; I could have told you the positions of the pieces."

Jim shoves the PADD back in his bag. "Ah, but how do I know you wouldn't change things to your advantage?" He waves a finger. "No, no. This way I have proof." He taps his bag and nods firmly.

The remark is clearly in jest, and Spock finds himself almost amused by the human's antics. "You could manipulate the picture," he points out lightly.

Jim grins. "Ah, but if you really do have eidetic memory, you'd be able to tell."

Spock tilts his head. "Logical."

Jim's grin widens. "So, I'll see you next week?"

Spock nods. "I will be there."

He watches as Jim exchanges a few words with Tina and Nate, then turns and gives Spock a quick wave. Spock raises his own hand in acknowledgement and finds he is almost looking forward to next week. Perhaps joining a club like this was not such a bad idea.

* * *

Jim frowns as he heads back towards his dorm room. He knew joining Starfleet Academy would mean living and working with many different species – in fact, that has always been one of the main draws for him – but it is still takes some getting used to. Prior to coming here, virtually all the aliens he's ever seen have been in books, or from a distance, on trips with his parents. Now they're everywhere.

All human cadets were given a speech and a booklet at the start of the semester about how to avoid offending the various species that populate the campus, which he's memorised, but he's still a little worried about screwing it all up.

Still, he thinks, he didn't do too badly with the Vulcan this evening. He even managed to remember not to touch him. He's always heard that Vulcans are cold and emotionless, but Spock didn't seem that way. Reserved, yes, but to Jim's mind he came off more shy than anything else. Like he didn't quite know how to interact with people.

Jim considers that as he enters his dorm building. He doesn't know exactly how many Vulcans there are at Starfleet, but it can't be many, and a pang of sympathy goes through him as he realises how isolated Spock must be. Light years away from home, separated from his people, surrounded by humans with likely incomprehensible ways of acting and speaking and thinking. No wonder the poor guy seemed so overwhelmed.

Well, Jim knows enough about feeling lonely and out of place to want to relieve that feeling in others, and he makes a spur-of-the-moment decision to try and help Spock feel more at home here. Part of his mind reminds him that this is a Vulcan he's dealing with, but he shoves the thought aside. If Spock doesn't want his help, fine, but he's going to at least try. Besides, that was just about the best game of chess he's ever had.

He remembers the look of surprise that briefly crossed Spock's face when he offered to play with him and wonders if anyone else ever has.

* * *

Spock arrives early again the next week. He greets Tina and Nate somewhat absently, his mind already on the in-progress game with Jim. Like last week he takes a seat in the corner, then begins to move the chess pieces to the positions they were in when he left last week.

Jim arrives just as he is setting the black queen into place on the second level. "Hey," he says, smiling.

"Good evening," Spock returns. Jim is early as well; there are still five minutes to go until the scheduled start time, and only six or seven members of the club are currently present.

"I see you've set up the board," Jim continues. Even after over a year among humans, Spock still does not understand their need to state the obvious. He watches as Jim rummages in his bag and pulls out a PADD. "Mind if I check your work?"

Spock tilts his head. "If you feel it necessary."

Jim looks from the board to the PADD and back several times, then nods. "Looks right to me." He shoves the PADD back into his bag and slides into the chair opposite Spock. "I believe it was your move?" He laces his fingers together on the table and leans towards Spock. "As I recall, you were about to take my bishop."

"Indeed," Spock replies. He has had a week to consider Jim's comment about having a plan and, after realising that he cannot rule out the possibility, has come up with a plan of his own. "I was."

With that he reaches out and, instead of taking Jim's bishop, moves his knight back to better protect his king. He sits back and glances up to meet Jim's eyes, giving him a challenging look.

Jim studies the board. "Well, I wasn't expecting that," he says. "I guess my bishop lives to fight another day."

Spock frowns. "Why do you speak of the pieces as though they are alive?" It is not the first such comment Jim has made.

Jim appears to consider the question. "I play better if I can pretend there are real consequences to my actions. It keeps me focused."

"That is not logical," Spock replies.

Jim smiles. "We humans rarely are." He goes back to studying the board, and after a few moments moves the contested bishop down a level to threaten Spock's second knight.

Spock considers the situation for one point two seconds, decides that the knight is an acceptable sacrifice, and renews his attack on Jim's king.

After a lengthy battle, Spock finally admits defeat. "It seems you have bested me," he says as he tips his king. Tilting his head, he adds, "I am curious. What was your plan had I taken your bishop?"

To his surprise, Jim shrugs. "I didn't have one," he says simply, and smiles. "I hoped you'd _think_ I had one and change your mind about attacking. And it worked."

Spock stares at him for a moment, speechless. "You tricked me."

Jim shrugs again. "I don't like to lose." But his smile washes away any annoyance Spock might feel. "Look at it this way," he adds, placing the offending bishop back in its rightful place, "you'll know better than to fall for it next time."

"Indeed," Spock replies. He finds he is looking forward to learning more about James Kirk.

x x x

The next week Spock is unexpectedly delayed leaving his room and arrives at the chess club slightly later than he intended to. He is mildly surprised to find Jim sitting opposite an Andorian, already several moves into a game. Jim glances up long enough to give him a wave and an apologetic look, and Spock gives himself a mental shake. It is his own fault for being late, and besides, the original point of this exercise was to make contact with _multiple_ humans, something he has been somewhat remiss at so far.

He looks around for a possible alternate partner before settling on a dark-haired girl sitting a few tables away. He makes his way over and clears his throat gingerly as she looks up. "May I join you?"

She nods, looking surprised. "I… suppose." She gives him a timid smile and adds, "I'm not very good."

"You are a beginner?" Spock asks, and she nods. "Then there is no shame in being less adept than other players. You must give yourself time."

Her smile becomes a little stronger. "Thanks," she says. "That actually helps." She holds out a hand. "I'm Lauren."

Spock stares at the hand, wondering what to do. He has found humans often react badly when he refuses to shake their hand, but the thought of doing so is not appealing. Lauren has shown no signs of bigotry so far, though, so he decides to decline. "Vulcans do not shake hands."

Sure enough, all she does is pull back the hand with a faintly embarrassed expression. "Oh, sorry. I didn't know that."

"No offence was taken," Spock replies. He picks up a couple of pieces and begins placing them in their correct places on the board. "Shall we play?"

The experience is worlds away from playing with Jim. True to Lauren's words, she is not a particularly adept player, and Spock wins their first game in less than twenty moves. He reaches out to reset the board, then pauses as he takes in Lauren's expression. She is studying the board, eyebrows set in a deep frown.

Spock clears his throat uncomfortably, unsure of the proper etiquette for such a situation but feeling he should say something. "Would you like me to show you where you went wrong?" he asks.

She glances up at him and nods, giving him a brief smile. Spock reaches for the pieces, feeling slightly pleased that he not only correctly identified the cause of her distress, but may have helped to alleviate it. He takes her through the moves of their brief game, pointing out the flaws in her strategy, including several he remembers from when he was first learning.

She nods, taking it all in, and then demands a rematch. This time the game lasts more than fifty moves.

x x x

It may not be as stimulating as playing with Jim would have been, but Lauren is a quick learner, and Spock finds he almost enjoys teaching her. It is so long since anyone has looked to him for advice, and she seems genuinely grateful for the help.

"I can't believe how much I've learned tonight," she says at the end of the night. "My brother tried teaching me once, and he said I was hopeless."

"He was wrong," Spock says simply, and she smiles.

They are interrupted by Jim's arrival at their table. "Hey, Spock," he says, shifting his bag on his shoulder.

"Hello, Jim," Spock replies. "Have you met Lauren?"

Jim turns as if realising for the first time that they are not alone. "Oh, hi," he says, holding out a hand. "I'm Jim." He gives her a bright smile.

"Lauren," she replies, taking the proffered hand. "Spock's been helping me learn chess. He's a really good teacher." She glances at her watch and curses, jumping up and grabbing her bag. "Sorry, I have to go. I'm supposed to be meeting my roommate." She throws Spock a quick, "Thanks for the help, see you next week," before leaving the room in a rush.

With the sudden disappearance of Lauren, Spock finds Jim's attention falling back on him. "So, apparently you're a good teacher," Jim says, looking at Spock as if he's some kind of puzzle to be solved. "I didn't know that."

Spock considers mentioning that he was not aware of it himself, but decides not to. Instead he says, "There was nothing for me to teach you."

Jim beams at Spock. "Coming from you, that's high praise," he says, then shifts his bag again, looking nervous. "Actually, I wanted to ask you, if you're not busy…" he takes a breath, continuing, "I thought since we didn't get to play tonight, you might want to come back to my room and play a game there."

Spock stares at Jim. No one has ever invited him to their room before. "I would like that."

Jim's smile becomes even brighter, something that Spock would not have thought possible. "Great. That's great." He motions to the door. "Shall we?"

Spock follows him out of the building and across campus to Jim's dorm. Spock notes that it is in almost the exact opposite direction to his own. Jim's room is on the third floor, number 325.

"My roommate's staying over at his girlfriend's," Jim says as he taps in the code for the door, "so we'll have the place to ourselves." He stands aside as the door slides open and ushers Spock in before him.

Spock is glad of the information. As a Vulcan, he has been assigned a single room, and it slipped his mind that the usual state of things is for cadets to be assigned two to a room. Sure enough, the room is set up with two beds, two desks, and two dressers, one on each side of the room. Spock observes that one side of the room is considerably neater than the other.

"What is your roommate's name?" he asks with curiosity.

Jim sits down on one of the beds; the one on the neater side, Spock notes. "Ben," he answers. "He's a decent guy, but he's not really around much." He tilts his head at Spock. "What about yours?"

"My roommate?" Spock questions.

Jim nods.

"I do not have one."

Jim looks impressed. "Must be nice," he says, then rubs his hands together. "So. You came here to play chess." He gets up and begins rummaging under the bed. "Let me just get the board set up, and I can start beating the pants off you."

"I do not believe that is possible," Spock says, and Jim laughs.

"It's just a figure of speech, Spock." He reappears with the sections of a 3D board in one hand and a box of chess pieces in the other. "Help me set this up, will you?"

Spock accepts the sections of board from him and takes them over to the desk to set up. Jim drags a chair over from Ben's side of the room and sits down next to him before opening the box and starting to divide the pieces into their two groups. Spock notes that the pieces are hand carved from some kind of crystal, and pauses in his work to pick up a knight and study it. The attention to detail is impressive. "Where did you get these?" he asks.

Jim looks up, his eyes resting on the knight in Spock's hand. "From my granddad," he says. "He carved them himself."

Spock turns the knight over absently, and raises an eyebrow when he finds letters carved on the underside. "JRD," he says out loud.

Jim nods. "My mom's dad; James Robert Davis. I was named after him." He pauses, briefly, then adds, "He passed away a few years ago."

"I grieve with thee," Spock says quietly, carefully placing the knight back on the table. "His work is excellent."

Jim gives him a brief smile. "Thanks," he says quietly, before taking a deep breath and adding more strongly, "Want me to help you with the board?"

Spock realises he is slacking and hastily clicks the last few boards into place. "Unnecessary," he replies, and Jim's smile becomes more genuine. "Are you taking the black or white pieces?"

"I thought black," Jim says. "I could do with the challenge." He sighs and adds, "That Andorian was hopeless. I had to keep reminding him how the pieces moved, and then he nearly threw a fit when I beat him."

Spock suddenly feels very glad for Lauren's easy acceptance.

Jim smiles and adds, "I much prefer playing with you."

Spock finds himself momentarily speechless. He busies himself with putting the pieces onto the boards, and after a moment Jim begins doing the same.

The game goes much the same as their previous ones, both of them trying out gambits and counter gambits in an attempt to catch each other out. The difference is that Jim seems intent on engaging him in conversation as they play. He seems genuinely interested, so Spock does not think it is a trick, but after last week he is not willing to rule anything out.

Most of Jim's questions revolve around what it is like to be a second year, and Spock learns with some interest that Jim has already tested out of several of the first year classes. It was obvious from the first time they met that Jim was intelligent, but their conversation quickly reveals an extremely driven and disciplined individual. Jim has a clear plan for his future and is prepared to do anything to make it happen. It is a philosophy Spock can relate to.

"I've been wondering," Jim begins hesitantly, frowning as Spock's queen takes his rook. "What made you decide to join Starfleet?"

Spock tenses involuntarily, fingers tightening around the captured rook. "It seemed the most profitable use of my skills," he replies. The truth… mostly.

"And it isn't hard, being so far away from your family?" Jim asks.

This conversation is quickly heading into areas Spock would prefer not to explore. "It is not an issue," he says shortly.

Something close to hurt flashes across Jim's face, but he quickly recovers. "No, I suppose it wouldn't be," he says quietly. "Sorry I asked."

Spock suppresses a sigh. Perhaps he was too harsh. "It is not your fault," he says. "My family situation is… complicated."

Jim looks mildly soothed by the words. "Oh. Well. I know what that's like." He shakes his head. "My own brother's barely spoken to me since I told him I was joining Starfleet."

"Why?" Spock asks, before it occurs to him that he is doing exactly what he was frustrated at Jim for.

Jim doesn't seem to mind, however. "Our dad was away a lot when I was a kid, and Sam – that's my brother – he blames Starfleet for it. He wasn't exactly happy when I decided to follow in Dad's footsteps."

Empathy wells up in Spock's chest, and before he can think better of it, he admits, "My father's reaction was much the same."

The two of them just stare at each other for a long moment, before the corners of Jim's mouth curve upwards slightly. "Sucks, doesn't it?" he says quietly.

The words are tinged with bitterness, and Spock lets out a breath, feeling strangely comforted by the idea that Jim might, in some way, understand what joining Starfleet has cost him. "Indeed," he agrees. "It is a somewhat unpleasant situation."

Jim gives him a brief smile, then shakes his head and changes the subject. "So, what other clubs are you in? I'm thinking of joining the history club, but there's this extra class with Professor Benson I'd like to take, and I'm not sure I'll have time for both."

That subject takes them through to the end of the game. Spock wins, and Jim looks rueful as he tips his king. "I'd demand a rematch, but it's getting late," he says.

"I understand," Spock says. He pushes back his chair and stands. Jim does likewise.

"Thank you for coming over," Jim says. "This was fun."

"It was no problem," Spock replies. "I, too, found it pleasant." He hesitates briefly, then adds, "I would not be averse to a repeat performance."

A smile spreads across Jim's face, making his eyes light up. "I'd really like that," he says. "Next week?"

Spock nods. "I shall see you then," he says, and leaves.

As he makes his way back across the grounds to his room, Spock's mind is still focused on his evening with Jim. He has never spent time recreationally with another being like this before, and he is surprised at how rewarding it can be.

He wonders if this is what it feels like to have a friend.


	2. Connections

Author's Note: This chapter contains brief sexual assault.

**Chapter 2 – Connections**

When Jim first made the decision to befriend Spock, he naturally assumed it would require some degree of effort. Vulcans, after all, are not exactly known for their warm and friendly personalities, and he'd imagined a long, drawn-out process, involving many doomed attempts to define the human concept of 'friendship' in logical terms.

As it turns out, it isn't like that at all. Far from scorning Jim's attempts at friendship, Spock welcomes them, albeit with the slight awkwardness that speaks of unfamiliarity with the concept. And it goes both ways; the more Jim gets to know Spock, the more he likes him. He may be quiet and reserved, but he's also smart, and kind, and surprisingly funny.

And, like Jim, he's just a little bit broken.

Spock's admission about his father made Jim grateful for his own parents' support; Sam's rejection hurt badly enough, he can't imagine what Spock must be going through. Then he learns a little more about Spock's past and realises that's just the tip of the iceberg.

A little over a week after their first private chess game, he convinces Spock to come over and watch a movie. It was one of Jim's favourites as a kid, and he's looking forward to sharing it with Spock, so he's mildly annoyed when Spock mentions he has already seen it.

"When?" Jim asks.

Spock gives him that slightly confused look that says he still isn't entirely comfortable with human eccentricities. "My mother showed it to me when I was a child."

Jim stares at him. "Vulcans watch _The Wizard of Oz_?"

A very strange look crosses Spock's face, then, and he just stares at Jim as if trying to figure something out. Finally, after a long moment, he glances away and says quietly, "My mother is not Vulcan."

Jim blinks, and it takes physical effort to keep his jaw from dropping. "Really?" For all he's learned about Spock these last few weeks he would never have guessed he was anything but fully Vulcan.

Spock still isn't looking at him. "Yes." Before Jim can ask the obvious question, he adds, "She is human."

Jim is silent for a moment, trying to process that. "So you're half-human?" He didn't even know that was possible.

Spock nods, and Jim notices that he's gone tense, as if he expects Jim to react badly to the news. Jim wonders if that's happened to him before and has to force down a surge of anger at the thought. "Well, I think that's neat," he says. "Makes you special. Unique."

Spock glances at him, looking a fraction less tense. "Most people view it as a negative." He sounds almost curious.

Jim shrugs. "Not me." He studies Spock for a few seconds, then adds quietly, "Did… do people treat you badly because of it?"

For a moment Jim thinks Spock isn't going to answer, then he draws in a sharp breath and says, "My classmates on Vulcan were not entirely… impressed with the idea."

He doesn't elaborate, but Jim has enough imagination to guess what kinds of things lie in the gaps of that sentence. "Well, they're idiots," he says firmly. "You're one of the best people I've ever met, and you shouldn't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Spock stares at him. "You truly believe that." It's said as though _Spock_ can't believe it, and the idea brings a lump to Jim's throat. He nods.

Spock looks at him for a moment longer, then abruptly turns away and busies himself with setting up the movie. But as they settle down to watch, Jim notices the tension in Spock's shoulders is gone.

* * *

Spock has never considered his life lacking before. He likes being alone, focusing on his own tasks, his own problems, his own solutions. But he is learning that time spent with Jim can be equally rewarding. Jim does not judge him; he accepts whatever Spock is willing to give, and so makes Spock want to give more.

He even accepts the reveal of Spock's human ancestry without judgement or condemnation, something Spock had not believed possible.

As the weeks pass he finds himself spending more and more time with Jim and less time alone. On several occasions they meet up with some of Jim's other friends, but more often it is just the two of them. And, if Spock is honest, he prefers it that way.

Spock is so wrapped up in their new friendship that he is mildly surprised when, during a weekly chess match, Jim states that he will have to cancel their plans to get together the next day.

"May I ask why?" Spock asks.

A faint blush appears on Jim's cheeks. "I… well, actually I have a date."

Spock considers that for a moment. He has deliberately kept himself free of romantic entanglements, but there is no reason for Jim to do the same. And it is difficult to miss the effect Jim seems to have on some of their female acquaintances. "Indeed," he says. "Who is she?"

Jim smiles, looking a little amused. "_He_ is called Anton. He's in my Federation History class."

Spock stops in the middle of picking up a knight, taking a moment to process that statement. "I did not realise you were homosexual." He knew such things were common among humans, of course, but it is still surprising to hear Jim speak so candidly about it.

"Bisexual, actually," Jim corrects. Then he tenses, narrowing his eyes at Spock. "Is that a problem?"

"No," Spock replies instantly. The information may have come as a surprise, but Jim's choice of partners is his own business.

Jim relaxes. "Good." He fiddles with the edge of the table. "I didn't know how Vulcans felt about… stuff like that."

"Vulcans believe in IDIC," Spock replies, choosing to ignore the fact that his own childhood does not exactly bear that out. "Infinite diversity in infinite combinations, all of them worthy of respect."

Jim nods. "But you don't engage in such relationships yourselves?"

Spock gives him a blank look. "That would not be logical."

Jim looks for a moment as if he wants to argue, but appears to think better of it. "No," he says softly. "I guess it wouldn't be." He gestures at Spock's hand. "Are you going to do something with that knight?"

Spock realises he is still holding the knight in mid-air and hastily places it back down on the square he was aiming for. They play for a few more moves in silence before Spock's curiosity gets the better of him. "Do your parents know?"

Jim doesn't bother asking what he means, which Spock appreciates. "Yes, and they're fine with it." He shrugs, adding, "My mom told me she dated a few girls before she met my dad, so you could say it runs in the family."

"Indeed," Spock says. He tries, for a moment, to imagine his own father's reaction to such an admission. It is not an appealing thought. "It is fortunate they were so accepting."

Jim shrugs again. "Not really. I wouldn't have told them if I thought they'd have a problem with it. Besides, most people – most humans, I mean – don't care about stuff like that. It's considered a quirk, like people who only date blondes."

It is on the tip of Spock's tongue to ask what importance hair colour could have to the selection of a mate, but he decides that there is likely no satisfactory answer to that question. Instead he tilts his head, studying Jim. "Human society is somewhat fascinating," he says.

"I like to think so," Jim replies, smiling. "But I'm sure Vulcan society is fascinating too."

"I like to think so," Spock deadpans, and raises an eyebrow as Jim bursts out laughing. It is a pleasant sound, and Spock thinks he would like to hear it more often.

Jim manages to calm himself and heaves a sigh, shaking his head fondly. "You know what, Spock?" he says. "I'm really glad I met you."

Spock stares at him, feeling a strange warmth well up in his chest. Part of him wants to tell Jim that he feels the same way, even as the larger, Vulcan part of him cringes away from such blatant feeling.

In the end he says nothing, and the moment passes. But when they say goodnight at the end of the evening, he lays a hand on Jim's arm and leaves it there just a little longer than would be considered strictly acceptable.

From the beaming smile Jim gives him, Spock thinks his message has been understood.

x x x

A few days later, Spock checks his communicator after his computer programming class and is surprised to find a message from Jim. Apparently his Astrophysics class has been cancelled due to illness and he thought Spock might like to meet for lunch. Spock was planning to use the time to catch up on some reading, but it is nothing that cannot wait. He replies with an affirmative, and a few seconds later receives a one word response; _Great!_

It is illogical, but the message gives him a warm feeling that lasts for several minutes.

Two hours later, he heads across the grounds to the mess hall. As he approaches he sees Jim talking with an older boy. His body language suggests discomfort with the conversation, and Spock finds himself speeding up to intercept them.

As he gets closer he can hear the jeering tone of the older boy's voice, and is struck by a memory of being similarly taunted by his Vulcan classmates. "What's the matter, Jimmy?" the boy says. "Cat got your tongue?"

Jim notices Spock before the other boy does and gives him a look that is half relief and half warning. "Shut up, Finnegan," he says firmly.

The other boy – Finnegan, apparently – just scoffs. "Oh, you'd like that." He shakes his head slowly. "You need to learn your place, Jimmy boy."

"I do not believe it is he who needs to learn his place," Spock says mildly, and Finnegan spins to face him.

"Get lost, pointy ears," he spits. "This is a private conversation."

Spock glances around pointedly at the bustling courtyard. "Hardly."

Finnegan takes a step forward, into Spock's personal space. The proximity is unpleasant, but Spock stands his ground, meeting Finnegan's eyes squarely. For a moment they just stare at each other, then Finnegan steps back, rolling his eyes. "Screw this," he says. "I've got better things to do."

He turns to Jim and gives him a mocking smile. "I'll leave you and your boyfriend alone for now, but don't think this is over." With that he strides away.

Jim watches him leave, then turns to Spock with a slightly wan smile. "Thanks," he says, "but I could have handled it."

Spock studies him for a long moment, drawing some rather unpleasant conclusions. "He has taunted you before." It isn't a question.

Jim shrugs, looking defensive. "I told you, I can handle it." He turns away, muttering darkly, "I've had worse."

He clearly didn't intend Spock to hear that last part. Spock doesn't comment on it, but files it away in the corner of his mind labelled "Jim Kirk". For all his supposed openness, Jim is still something of an enigma, and even after weeks of study Spock does not feel any closer to figuring out how his mind works.

Jim calms down somewhat once they've selected their food and found a place to sit. "I'm sorry about before," he says, fiddling absently with his fork. "Finnegan's an asshole. I hope he didn't make you uncomfortable."

"I am fine," Spock replies, before his curiosity gets the better of him. "Why is he so intent on provoking you?"

Jim shrugs. "I don't know. He's been trying to get a rise out of me for weeks. Mostly I just try to ignore him." He smiles briefly. "Sometimes I imagine punching him in his smug face, but I'd never actually do it." He shakes his head and adds, "But I don't want to talk about him anymore. How was your programming class?"

Spock gives him a quick run through of what he learned that week, before their conversation on Tuesday comes back to him. "It occurs to me that I have been somewhat remiss in not asking how your date went."

To his surprise, Jim just shrugs. "It was all right, I suppose." He prods at his food, frowning. "He's a nice guy and all, but he's a little… vacant. I want someone who challenges me; who makes me _think_."

Spock tilts his head, considering. Once again Jim has surprised him. He supposes he should get used to that. "Logical," he says. "You are a very intelligent individual; it is only natural that you would seek out a partner who is likewise."

Jim gives him a quick smile. "Thanks," he says. "That means a lot." He shifts slightly in his seat and changes the subject. "How's your food?"

Spock looks down at the vegetable lasagne he is consuming, trying to find something diplomatic to say. "It is edible."

Jim wrinkles his nose. "Yeah, the food here isn't great, is it?"

Spock blinks, surprised at the knowledge that Jim has so easily picked up on his distaste. He must be slipping if his emotions are visible to humans. He thinks darkly that his father would not approve.

"It is somewhat bland," he admits slowly.

Jim grins. "That's one of your Vulcan understatements?" Before Spock can respond, he adds, "Usually I go off-campus. There's a restaurant just a few blocks from here that does the most amazing burgers."

"I am vegetarian," Spock replies.

Jim shrugs. "They do veggie burgers too." He leans forward and adds, "I'll have to take you there sometime."

"That should be interesting," Spock says mildly.

Jim laughs.

x x x

It is not long after that that Spock receives a message from his mother. She and his father are coming to Earth, and she would like to see him. It is not the first such message she has sent, and Spock considers it for a long time, imagining telling her about his experiences at the academy, about the chess club, about Jim. He imagines she would be pleased to know he has found a friend.

If it were just her, he would not hesitate to arrange a meeting, but he does not trust her not to bring along his father in some pretence of family unity. Even now the pain of his father's rejection still stings, and he shudders as he imagines Sarek's reaction to Jim, to their growing friendship. No amount of filial devotion is worth that.

In the end he deletes the message without replying, and spends the rest of the night in meditation.

It doesn't help.

x x x

Several weeks later, they are sitting in Spock's room, studying, when Jim says abruptly, "Are you doing anything for Halloween?"

Spock looks up from his essay on the history of warp drive to give him a puzzled look. "Halloween?"

Jim looks at him incredulously for a moment. "You don't know?"

Spock shakes his head.

"Well, it's a holiday, celebrated on October 31st, where people dress up in costumes and try to scare each other. Kids go out in costume and get candy, but adults mostly just use it as an excuse for a party."

Spock blinks. "And what is the purpose of this holiday?"

Jim frowns. "I'm not sure, actually. I think it has something to do with remembering the dead."

Spock stares at him for a long moment, wondering if this is one of those human 'pranks' he has heard about. "That may be the most illogical thing I have ever heard."

Jim grins. "Yeah, it must sound pretty strange. But it's fun." He stretches his arms above his head. "The reason I asked was because some guys I know are throwing a party, and I wondered if you'd like to come."

Spock considers that. "Would I be required to wear a costume?"

"Well, you could put on a hat and claim you were going as a human." At Spock's unamused look he adds, "I'm sure we can think of something."

"What are you wearing?" Spock asks, suddenly curious.

Jim smiles. "I'm going as Abraham Lincoln."

Spock flicks through his memory for the name. "President of the United States of America from 1861 until his assassination in 1865."

"That's the one," Jim confirms. "He's one of my heroes." He leans forward and fixes Spock with a look. "So, will you come?"

"It sounds as if it would be an interesting experience," Spock admits. "I shall consider it."

"Great!" Jim says. "And if you do decide to go, I'd be happy to help you find a suitable costume."

x x x

In the end, Spock does decide to go – Jim can be annoyingly persuasive when he wants to be – but he does not need any help on his costume. Jim's plan to dress up as Abraham Lincoln has given him an idea, and he has spent several hours in research in an attempt to ensure his representation of his chosen subject is as accurate as possible.

Jim buzzes his door at precisely 2000, dressed in a black three-piece suit with a stovepipe hat and a somewhat ridiculous fake beard. "What do you think?" he asks.

Spock raises an eyebrow. "Your representation is adequate," he says.

Jim narrows his eyes for a second, then laughs. "I suppose I'll take that as a compliment."

"Where did you get the suit?" Spock asks.

Jim looks down. "Rented it." He sighs, leaning against Spock's desk. "That was the easy part. It took me twenty minutes to do up this blasted bow tie."

The bow tie in question is still slightly crooked, and Spock impulsively reaches out and straightens it.

Jim stares at him, wide-eyed. "Your tie was crooked," Spock explains.

Jim continues staring for a moment, then seems to come to his senses. "Uh, thanks," he says. He waves a hand in Spock's direction. "So, what's your costume? It looks very… Vulcan."

Spock smoothes down his robes again. "My costume is intended to represent Surak, the father of logic."

Jim's eyes light up. "I read about him. That's the man who convinced your society to choose logic and emotional control over chaos, right?"

Spock nods. "That is correct. He is highly revered among our people."

Jim smiles. "He's one of your heroes. Like Lincoln is mine."

Spock looks away, the look in Jim's eyes making him feel slightly uncomfortable. "In a manner of speaking, yes."

When he glances up again Jim is still smiling. "Come on," he says. "Let's go show off our costumes."

They arrive at the party a short while later to find it in full swing. Spock looks around as they make their way through the crowd. The sheer variety and assortment of costumes is somewhat impressive. There are people dressed as supernatural creatures, fictional characters, historical figures – including, to Jim's slight annoyance, another Lincoln – animals, and other sentient species such as Andorians and Caitians.

"Hey, man, great Vulcan costume!" says a voice from behind him. Spock can see Jim trying not to laugh as he turns around. The male human in possession of the voice seems to already be slightly intoxicated, and he reaches out a hand towards Spock's face. "Can I touch your ears?"

"No, you may not," Spock tells him sharply.

The boy rolls his eyes. "What, are you gonna nerve pinch me?"

Spock briefly considers it, especially when the boy makes another grab for his ears. Spock evades his grasp and barks, "My ears are not part of my costume, and I do _not _wish for you to touch them!"

He turns before the boy can respond and begins pushing his way firmly through the crowd. Behind him he can hear one of the boy's friends saying, "That was a _real_ Vulcan, idiot!"

Jim appears beside him as he arrives at the refreshment table. "I'm sorry," he says. "I should have guessed that might happen."

Spock grips his hands together firmly. "It was not your fault." The situation has unsettled him and he barely keeps from flinching when Jim lays a hand on his arm.

"Do you want to leave?" Jim asks.

Spock's immediate reaction is to say yes, but after a few moments of thought he shakes his head. It would not be fair to Jim, and they have both spent too long on their costumes to leave after less than five minutes.

Jim gives him a comforting smile and squeezes his arm. "Okay, but just tell me if you do."

Spock nods again. "I will do so."

Jim turns and surveys the table. "I don't know about you, but I could do with a drink."

He ends up getting a root beer, while Spock has a glass of water. They stick to the outskirts for a while; Spock assumes this is Jim's way of trying to protect him from any more drunken humans. But soon enough Jim is drawn into a discussion with several friends about some piece of Earth culture Spock has little interest in, and he decides to take the opportunity to visit the facilities.

On his way back he is waylaid by a dark-haired girl wearing a green tunic and matching hat, with a quiver of arrows across her back. It takes him a moment to recognise Lauren. "Spock! Hi!" she says.

He tilts his head. "Lauren." He finds it is somewhat pleasing to see her. They have played chess on two more occasions since that first time, and she is improving at a great rate. She is not a friend on the level of Jim, but he thinks they could work well together if they were to be assigned to the same ship in the future.

"I'm Robin Hood," Lauren says, gesturing to her clothing.

"Indeed," Spock agrees. He remembers the character from the books his mother used to read him. "Where did you get the arrows?"

"Archery club," Lauren replies, then claps a hand to her forehead. "Damn, I think I left my bow at the snack table."

"You mean this?" Another girl, dressed as the common human image of an angel, appears at their side holding a bow.

Lauren seizes it happily. "Yes, thank you! You really are an angel."

The other girl laughs. "Yeah, yeah. I bet you say that to all the girls." She looks Spock up and down before asking, "Who's your friend?"

Lauren smiles. "This is Spock. From Chess Club?"

The other girl nods. "Oh, right." She shrugs. "Chess isn't really my game. Archery, now _that's_ something worth training for."

Lauren rolls her eyes. "Spock, this is Millie, my girlfriend. She's about the only person I know who's a bigger archery geek than me."

Millie wraps an arm around Lauren's shoulders and grins. "And proud of it!" She gestures at Spock's outfit with her free hand. "Who're you meant to be?"

Spock straightens slightly. "My costume is intended to represent the Vulcan philosopher Surak."

Millie doesn't look particularly impressed. "Huh. Well, you've got the ears for it." At that point a new song comes on and she bounces on her toes. "Oh, I love this song. Come on, Lauren!" She pulls her arm off Lauren's shoulder and grabs her hand. "See you later, Speck!"

Lauren gives him a wave and a slightly apologetic look as she is dragged off. He can hear her whispering, "It's _Spock_, not Speck," and Millie's dismissive, "Yeah, yeah. Let's dance!"

Within seconds they are gone and Spock is standing alone in the middle of a crowd of humans. He heads over to where he left Jim, but his friend is no longer there. He tries asking several of the people around him if they know where he went, but none of them do.

Spock glances around him, frowning. He and Jim did not make any plans for what to do if they were separated, and there are enough people around that the chances of finding him with a simple search are remote. Briefly, he regrets leaving his communicator in his room.

Trying to think logically, he checks the refreshment tables, then the restrooms. Jim is not there. With a lack of better options, Spock decides to head outside. He could use some fresh air anyway.

Steeling himself against the touch of unfamiliar minds, he begins making his way through the crowd to the door.

* * *

Jim is so caught up in his friends' discussion of the latest _Luke Justice_ episode that it takes him a while to notice that Spock hasn't come back from the restroom. Jim is about to go looking for him when Alison Harris, a pretty brunette dressed as a nurse, appears in front of him and asks him to dance. Jim has admired her from afar for several weeks, and nearly falls over himself saying yes.

He'll look for Spock later.

Alison is a wonderful dancer, but somehow being close to her isn't as amazing as he imagined. He keeps thinking of Spock, of how he reacted when that drunk idiot tried to touch his ears. One thing he's learned over the past weeks is that Spock is intensely touch-avoidant and a classic introvert, neither of which are helpful traits when navigating a standard human party.

After a few minutes the worry about Spock becomes too great and he gently extricates himself from Alison's grasp. "I'm sorry," he says. "This was great, but I have to go find a friend of mine."

She looks confused, and a little hurt. "Okay, fine," she says. "Guess I'll just find someone else."

He gives her an awkward smile, and inwardly curses his luck. "I really am sorry," he says, before turning and making his way through the crowd.

Spock isn't in the restroom, nor is he anywhere else that Jim checks. After exhausting his list of options, Jim heads outside, thinking that maybe Spock wanted some air.

He makes it outside a few moments later and looks around. He sees several couples making out, and one guy throwing up behind a bush, but no Spock. At least, that's what he thinks until he looks harder and realises that one of the couples includes Spock.

His first reaction is anger – anger that he was so worried about Spock when he was out here making out with some girl dressed like a cat – but then he realises that Spock's body language is all wrong for a romantic interlude. He's pressed against the wall of the building, and his hands are flat against the girl's shoulders, as if he's trying to push her away.

Jim's anger changes to a different kind and he rushes over there and tears the girl away. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demands. "Get off him!"

"Just trying to loosen him up," the girl replies, with a slur in her speech that indicates she's been drinking quite heavily. "Thought maybe he wouldn't be so uptight if he got some action."

Jim's free hand clenches involuntarily into a fist. "Get lost," he says through gritted teeth. "Now."

Some of what he's feeling must show on his face as the girl takes one look and hurries away, nearly tripping over her fake tail in her haste.

Jim takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself before turning to Spock, who is still leaning against the wall. "Are you okay?"

As soon as he's said it he wants to take the words back. Of course Spock isn't okay; he's just been assaulted. Jim reaches out to touch his arm, then pulls back, wondering if his touch will even be welcome right now.

Spock draws in a sharp breath and straightens up, expression blanker than Jim has ever seen it. "I believe I would like to leave now," he says.

"O-of course," Jim says. "I'll walk you back to your room."

Jim keeps sneaking glances at Spock as they walk, wondering how on Earth he's going to deal with this.

To his surprise, it's Spock who speaks first. "I could have stopped her." His head is bent, eyes scanning the ground.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me," Jim replies quickly. "What she did wasn't okay, and it wasn't your fault." Something occurs to him, then, and he adds, "I _was _right, back there? Her… advances were unwelcome?"

Spock nods, the barest movement of his head. "Very much so," he replies quietly, and the emptiness in his tone makes Jim ache.

"I'm sorry," he blurts, struggling for something to say. "I shouldn't have left you alone."

Spock looks at him for the first time since they left the party, his face a mask of incomprehension. "It was not your fault."

"But I'm still sorry." Trusting his instincts, Jim reaches out and lightly touches Spock's arm. "If there's anything I can do, just name it."

Spock looks down at the hand, but he doesn't pull away. "I shall do so," he says, and Jim notes with relief that his voice is a shade less empty.

It doesn't take them long to make it back to Spock's building and a few minutes after that Jim is hovering awkwardly in the doorway of Spock's room, watching as he makes his way over to an incense burner and lights up a stick.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asks, suddenly very aware that he's still dressed like Lincoln. He hastily pulls off the stupid beard and hat and takes a step towards Spock, who is staring at the incense as though he doesn't know what to do next.

"I require meditation," Spock says, without turning around.

"Oh." Jim glances behind him at the door. "Do you want me to leave?"

Spock does turn around then. He stares at Jim for a long moment, appearing to consider the question. "No," he says finally. "You can stay." He turns back to the incense burner and adds quietly, "You may find it somewhat boring, however."

"That's not an issue," Jim assures him.

Spock nods, then settles himself on his knees and steeples his fingers. After a moment he goes still, and Jim can almost _see_ him retreat into his mind.

Without taking his eyes off Spock, Jim pulls out a chair and sits down. He doesn't know much about Vulcan meditation, apart from the fact that it's apparently much more vital to their wellbeing than the human kind, but watching Spock he finds himself curious. He wonders if Spock would be willing to teach him some of it.

Spock is like a statue, and as the minutes pass he finds his attention drawn to his friend's profile; hair cut to precision length over his forehead, eyelashes falling over his cheek, lips that are strangely pink, considering the colour of Vulcan blood, and of course those elegantly pointed ears.

It dawns on him then that Spock is actually quite attractive. He was so focused on being Spock's friend that he never stopped to think about it before, but looking at him now it hits him like a blow to the solar plexus.

Jim looks away quickly, feeling his cheeks heat up. Even if Spock weren't entirely uninterested in guys, this is just about the worst possible moment to develop a crush. He glances around for something to distract himself and sees the copy of H.G. Wells's _The Time Machine_ that he lent Spock a few days ago. Jim's already read it, several times, but right now he doesn't care. Anything to keep him from more inappropriate thoughts.

He's just at the part where the Traveller meets the Morlocks, when he becomes aware of a presence at his shoulder and realises Spock has finished his meditation.

Jim closes the book and gives him a warm smile. To his relief, Spock looks considerably less blank than before, the tiny tell-tale signs of emotion that Jim has become so used to now clearly visible. "Hey," he says. "Feeling better?"

"I seem to have regained my equilibrium," Spock says, which Jim takes as a yes. He goes to sit down on the bed and Jim follows, watching as Spock clasps his hands in his lap and stares at them.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Jim asks softly.

"No," Spock replies bluntly. "But I shall do so regardless." He takes a deep breath and clasps his hands on his knees. "I couldn't find you at the party," he begins, and Jim feels a twinge of guilt as he thinks of Alison. "I thought perhaps you had gone outside." He glances over at the far wall. "It was a tempting thought, as the music and number of people were beginning to give me a headache."

Jim shifts a little closer, but doesn't interrupt. Spock continues to stare at the wall. "I went outside and looked around, but you were not there. I was about to go back inside when a girl came up to me. She was swaying on her feet and appeared intoxicated. I asked if she needed help. She asked me what help I was offering." A very faint blush colours his cheeks. "She then suggested that… I could assist her in a sexual way. When I informed her that Vulcans do not engage in casual sexual relations she said..." he trails off briefly, then continues, "…that that explained why they were so uptight, and that clearly I was in need of being 'loosened up'."

Jim's chest is beginning to ache again. "And then she kissed you," he ventures, when Spock doesn't continue.

Spock nods. "I attempted to stop her, but I was pressed against the wall and could not escape." He takes in a sharp breath. "I could feel her emotions through the contact. Lust, triumph, but not a shred of remorse. She did not care that she was violating me." He grips his hands together until his knuckles turn white. "If you had not arrived when you did, I do not believe I could have kept from injuring her in self-defence."

Spock turns to him, then, and his eyes are so tired and lost that Jim just wants to hug him. He settles for a hand on the arm and says carefully, "You could press charges. There are regulations against what she did." After what Spock's just told him he's half inclined to hunt her down himself. To violate someone not just physically but _mentally_… he doesn't have words for it. He doubts the girl knew exactly what she was doing to Spock, but she knew he was a Vulcan. That alone should have made her think twice.

But Spock only shakes his head. "I don't want to press charges," he says. "The experience was unpleasant, but it is over now. I'd prefer not to dwell on the subject."

Jim bites his tongue on the instinctive urge to argue. This is Spock's decision, not his. "Are you sure?" he asks instead.

Spock nods. "I think… I'd like to go on as though it never happened."

Jim can understand that urge. "Okay," he says, "but if you change your mind I'm behind you 110%."

"That is impossible," Spock replies, with a hint of his old humour. "One cannot give more than 100%."

Jim smiles, raising his eyebrows. "You haven't seen me in action."

Carefully, half-afraid that Spock might bolt, he shifts closer until he is pressed against Spock's side. He isn't quite brave enough to put an arm around him – even this seems like pushing his luck – but to his surprise and amazement Spock not only accepts the touch but leans into it.

They stay like that for a very long time.

* * *

Spock finds himself requiring a greater-than-usual amount of meditation over the next few days, which is hampered somewhat by Jim's reluctance to leave him alone. It occurs to Spock that Jim's sudden overprotectiveness is very similar to the same way Spock's mother reacted when she found out the other children were bullying him. It is both annoying and oddly comforting, and he does not quite know how to feel.

Thankfully, after a day or so of hovering, Jim begins to relax and accept Spock's insistence that he is fine and has not been unduly damaged by the situation. It was unpleasant, but it is over, and he would like to move on with his life.

He does, however, make it clear that it will be a long time before he attends another human party.

* * *

Spock seems to be dealing fairly well with the situation, all things considered, but Jim still feels a certain amount of protectiveness towards him. The instant his classes are finished on Monday he rushes out and manages to arrive at the labs in time to meet Spock and walk him home.

Spock raises an eyebrow at Jim's presence, but seems happy enough to see him. They fall into step as they have many times before, and Jim smiles as Spock begins to describe the experiment he's working on.

They've only been walking a few minutes when Spock's trails off suddenly, his attention caught by something ahead of them. Jim follows his gaze and groans inwardly as he recognises Finnegan and two of his cronies.

"Well, look who it is," Finnegan says mockingly. "Little Jimmy and his pet Vulcan."

Jim grits his teeth. It's one thing for Finnegan to insult him, but Spock shouldn't have to hear this. _But of course_, he thinks bitterly, _that's the point_. Finnegan, for all his faults, isn't totally stupid, and he's learned that he can get a better response by insulting people Jim cares about than he can by insulting Jim alone.

"I must admit," Finnegan says, "I'm surprised to see you two looking so chummy." He indicates the large, brown-haired boy on his left. "Joe here says he saw you fighting over a girl just a few days ago."

Jim glances at Spock and to his dismay sees that his face has gone expressionless, a sign that the barb has hit home. Protectiveness wells up inside Jim and his hands clench involuntarily into fists. "Shut up, Finnegan," he spits.

But Finnegan has sensed he's found a sore spot and isn't about to back down. He shakes his head, smiling nastily. "Protecting your boyfriend, Jimmy? That's sweet. Too bad he won't appreciate it. Everyone knows Vulcans don't have feelings." He glances at Spock and adds loudly, "Isn't that right, you pointy-eared freak?"

With that Jim's control finally snaps and he punches Finnegan right in the nose.

He feels a brief satisfaction as Finnegan stumbles backwards, clutching his bleeding nose, but then his two friends step forward menacingly and Jim realises he might have bitten off more than he can chew.

"You just made a big mistake," one of them says.

Jim takes a step back, looking for an escape route. "I don't want a fight," he says, but he suspects punching their leader in the face somewhat belies his words.

He ducks as a fist comes at his head, and then blinks as his assailant drops to the ground unconscious. He glances up and sees Spock standing there, looking as though he's cataloguing the whole experience for later study. "What did you-" he starts, but doesn't get any further before the second of Finnegan's cronies charges at Spock, his face red with anger. Without changing expression, Spock grabs the fist coming towards him, then reaches out and grasps the other boy's shoulder. In less than a second, he too is laid on the ground unconscious.

_Of course_, Jim thinks. _The Vulcan nerve pinch._ He's never seen it in action before. He doesn't get the chance to contemplate it further, however, as just then a voice rings out. "What the _hell_ is going on here?"

It's one of the instructors; a tall, dark-haired man bearing commander's stripes. He takes in the scene, then blinks in disbelief. "Spock?"

Spock straightens, looking ever-so-slightly embarrassed. "Commander Pike."

"He attacked me!" Finnegan says, pointing at Jim with his free hand, the other one still clutching his nose. "And then the other one nearly killed my friends."

"I employed the nerve pinch," Spock puts in quietly. "They are unharmed, and should regain consciousness shortly." He clasps his hands behind his back. "In addition, Cadet Kirk's 'attack' as Cadet Finnegan calls it was the result of severe provocation."

Pike looks at each of them in turn, then at the two lying on the floor, and gives an audible sigh. "Go to the infirmary," he tells Finnegan. "I'll speak with you later." He glances down and adds, "Your friends will be there shortly."

As Finnegan begins walking away, Pike turns to Jim and Spock. "I want to see both of you in my office," he says, and the expression on his face brooks no argument. "I'll be there as soon as I've seen these two to the infirmary."

"Yes, sir," Spock says, and Jim echoes him, barely audible. The adrenaline is wearing off, and all he can think of is that he's in serious trouble. He's only been here two months and he's already been caught fighting. It doesn't bode well for the rest of his career.

Silently he follows Spock across the grass to the Zefram Cochrane building. He's so lost in thought that he's startled when Spock abruptly breaks the silence.

"You struck him because he insulted me," Spock says. He sounds almost curious.

"He had it coming," Jim mutters. He doesn't really want to talk about this, about the fact that one loss of temper might have just cost him his future.

Spock is silent for a moment before he says haltingly, "While I do not condone violence, I cannot deny that I am… grateful for your support. It is not something I have often experienced in the past."

Jim gives him a sidelong look, but he's staring ahead at the building. "That's what friends are for," he says. "And you stopped those guys from flattening me, so I'd say we're even."

Spock glances at him, looking as though he's trying to figure something out. But all he says is, "Indeed."

They fall both fall silent, but as they enter the building and make their way to Pike's office, Jim finds himself feeling a little more optimistic.

"So how do you know Commander Pike?" he asks, as they make their way down the hallway to his office.

"He is my advisor," Spock replies.

Jim winces, imagining how he'd feel if it was his own advisor who'd caught them. "What's he like?"

"He is a good man," Spock replies. It's apparently all he's willing to say on the matter.

They're kept hanging around outside Pike's office for around fifteen minutes before he arrives and ushers them in.

He sits down behind the desk, while Jim and Spock remain standing. "Right," he says. "I've heard Mister Finnegan's side of the story, now I want to hear yours."

Spock launches into a speech before Jim can even draw a breath. "Approximately nineteen point seven minutes ago, Cadet Kirk and I were making our way across campus when we found our path blocked by Cadet Finnegan and his two associates. He began to make xenophobic remarks towards my person, clearly attempting to provoke a reaction. After several of these remarks, Kirk became angered and struck him once in the face. Finnegan's associates attempted to retaliate, and would have severely injured Kirk if I had not employed the nerve pinch. And it was at that point, sir, that you arrived." He stares at the wall and adds, "In addition, sir, I would like to note that Finnegan has been intentionally provoking Kirk for some time, and yet this is the first time he has fought back in any way."

"I see," Pike says. His gaze flicks to Jim. "And you agree with this story?"

"Yes, sir," Jim says, then finds he can't leave it at that. "I'm sorry, sir. I know I shouldn't have hit him. I just… I couldn't let him insult Spock like that. I swear it won't happen again."

"It better not," Pike says, then sighs. "Look. I've been looking into Mister Finnegan's record, and I'm inclined to believe you when you say you were provoked. But that does _not_ make it acceptable to go around punching people." He glances at Spock and narrows his eyes. "Or nerve-pinching them, for that matter." He lays his hands flat on the desk as he concludes, "You both have spotless records, so I'm going to let you go with a warning. But if I hear about _anything_ like this happening again, I'll come down on you like a ton of bricks. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Jim replies instantly, feeling a huge rush of relief. Beside him, Spock echoes the words.

"Right," Pike says. "In that case, Spock, you're free to go. Mister Kirk, if you would remain behind a few minutes?"

Spock looks puzzled, but obeys. Jim watches him go with a certain amount of apprehension.

Once they're alone, Pike gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. "Take a seat," he says.

Jim sits down obediently, clasping his hands in his lap.

Pike studies him for a long moment. "You know," he says quietly, "there aren't many people who'd risk themselves to defend a Vulcan."

It isn't quite a question, but Jim answers anyway. "He's my friend."

To his surprise, something in Pike's expression warms at the words. "I'm glad," he says. "Sometimes I think he needs more friends."

He moves back to business before Jim has a chance to respond. "Spock said Finnegan had been harassing you for some time. Is that true?"

Jim considers the question, then gives a cautious nod.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

Jim shrugs, staring at the desk. "I thought I could deal with it on my own." Deep in his mind, memories far worse than anything Finnegan could throw at him threaten to surface. He shoves them back, face kept carefully blank.

Pike studies him for a moment. "I looked up your records," he says, and Jim's heart skips a beat at the thought that he _knows_. But, no, he reminds himself. That part of his records is private. This must be about something else.

Sure enough, Pike continues with, "You're George Kirk's son."

Jim nods, forcing himself to relax. He's already come across several people who want to talk to him about his father, and it's certainly a much more pleasant subject than his previous thoughts. "Yes, sir," he says quietly.

"I served under him on the _Endeavour_," Pike says. "He'd tell anyone who'd listen about his sons, and how proud he was of them." He smiles, suddenly. "If you're half the man he thought you'd be, you're going to be a hell of a captain someday."

Jim smiles, the first real smile since he met Spock outside the labs. Strange to think that was less than an hour ago. "Thank you, sir," he says.

Somewhere, deep down, he suspects that Pike isn't _quite_ as disapproving of his actions towards Finnegan as he makes out. Briefly, Jim flashes back to Spock's words about no one ever sticking up for him and wonders if maybe he's not the only one who's noticed.

He leaves Pike's office with the assurance that his Starfleet career is secure, but with the feeling that he's more out of his depth than ever.

x x x

Jim doesn't know what Pike might have said to Finnegan, but he and Spock are left alone from then on. The fight seems to have brought about a new understanding between them and, while up till now it has been Jim who made most of the overtures in their friendship, he can't go two days without Spock suggesting some new point of interest or activity to do together. The whole situation seems to have added a new depth to their friendship, and Jim revels in it.

And if he sometimes thinks about how it would feel to touch those pointed ears, or see what lies under that spotless academy uniform, well, it doesn't have to mean anything at all.


	3. Friends and Family

**Chapter 3 – Family and Friends**

Finals week arrives before anyone is fully prepared for it. For the first time Jim truly envies Spock – Vulcan eidetic memory would be a godsend right about now.

He wants so badly to make his parents proud, to show Sam that Starfleet isn't worthless.

He's been studying hard all semester, but it feels like he hasn't really learned anything.

About the only saving grace is that all his classmates are in the same boat. They walk around like zombies, surviving on caffeine and as little sleep as they can get away with, and cluster together after each subject, comparing answers and commiserating over the more difficult papers.

By the time Jim reaches his last exam of the semester he is utterly exhausted, but fairly confident that he has at least passed everything. He enters the test hall with a sense of relief that it will all soon be over.

x x x

The headache starts halfway through the two-hour exam period. Jim tries to ignore it at first, concentrating on the questions, but then the pain begins to grow. Slowly, steadily, in a way he recognises.

He can't remember the last time he had a migraine, but the symptoms are difficult to forget. He manages to make it to the end of the paper, but by then the pain in his head has been joined by an insistent nausea and a feeling like the light from the ceiling panels is actually stabbing into his eyeballs.

As soon as they're dismissed he rushes out of the hall and down the corridor to the bathroom, barely managing to lock himself in a cubicle before he brings up everything he's eaten that day.

By the time his stomach stops clenching, the ache in his head has grown almost unbearable, and he slumps against the wall with a groan.

"Hey, man, are you okay in there?" The voice sounds slightly worried and Jim nearly groans again as he realises some random guy probably just heard him throw up.

"Yeah, just a minute," he calls, and reaches up to hit the flush. A few moments of concentration, and he manages to push down the pain long enough to stand and leave the cubicle.

The look the other guy gives him when he steps out answers his question as to whether he looks as bad as he feels. "You look awful, man," he says. "Maybe you should see a doctor."

Jim makes a vague noise and stumbles over to the sink as the other guy proceeds into a cubicle. He immediately sees what his companion meant; he looks half dead. His eyes are bloodshot, with dark shadows underneath, and the rest of his face is chalk white.

He drags his eyes away and turns on the taps. After rinsing out his mouth and splashing water on his face, he feels steady enough to try and make it back to his dorm.

It's only a few minutes' walk but it feels like forever, and he has to use almost all his concentration to keep walking, blocking out anything except the thought of getting back to his room and lying down.

Ben isn't there when he lets himself in, but Jim has stopped expecting him to be. He sets the window to opaque, blocking out the light, before collapsing on his bed, fully clothed, and curling into a ball.

He closes his eyes and lets the pain take him away.

* * *

Spock frowns. Jim said he would meet him at precisely 1600 to celebrate the end of finals. After the disastrous Halloween party, Jim has kept him away from large gatherings, so they made plans to visit the beach – an odd choice this late in the year, but Jim wanted to look at the water so Spock acquiesced – and then go to dinner. Except Jim is late.

Spock checks the time on his PADD just in case his time-sense is off, but it agrees with him, reading precisely 1618. Spock's frown deepens. Jim is never late, not without contacting him.

He pulls out his communicator and attempts to contact Jim, but there is no response. Concern pricks at Spock; perhaps Jim is not answering because he is unable to. The thought becomes more prominent as 1618 becomes 1628 and Jim still does not appear.

At 1645, after he has made three more attempts to contact Jim, Spock decides to go out and search for him. It is not a tremendously thought out plan, he admits, but he cannot just sit around when something is obviously wrong.

He starts his search at the lecture hall in which Jim was taking his exam, but no one has seen him since it ended at 1500. His next stop is Jim's dorm.

He signals for entry three times with no response, and is just about to leave when the door slides open. The room is in darkness, and even Spock's superior Vulcan eyesight has trouble making out the details. "Jim?" he asks hesitantly.

"Spock?" The word is a tired mumble, barely understandable. "If that's you, come in and for pity's sake close the door."

Spock steps inside obediently and lets the door slide shut behind him. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom, but he can just about make out Jim's form, curled in a ball on his bed. "Are you unwell?" he asks, moving forward until he is at Jim's bedside.

"Migraine," Jim mumbles. "I get them sometimes." He shifts a little and adds, "What're you doing here?"

"We were supposed to meet," Spock reminds him.

"Damn," Jim says. "That's right. Sorry."

"You do not need to apologise," Spock says. "Your absence is understandable. I was merely… concerned for your welfare."

He thinks Jim smiles at that, but it's difficult to tell in the dark.

Spock stares down at him, wishing he had some way of relieving Jim's discomfort. He flicks through his mental knowledge of migraines and asks, "Is there not some kind of medication that would relieve your pain?"

"Yes," Jim says, a little sharply, "but I left it back in Iowa." He shifts again, restlessly, and adds, "Besides, they're pills, and I can't keep anything down right now."

Spock considers that. "Is there anything I can do? Perhaps get you some water?"

"No," Jim replies. "The only other thing that helps is rest, but my head hurts too much to sleep."

Spock tilts his head. Perhaps there is something he can do to help. "I can assist you in falling asleep, if you wish."

"Could you?" The words are filled with hope, with a slight edge of desperation.

Spock nods. "It is a Vulcan technique, quite simple." He hesitates briefly. "I would need to touch your face."

Jim flaps a hand. "Whatever. Please. Do it."

Spock steeples his fingers and concentrates inward, before reaching out and brushing his fingers across Jim's meld points. _Sleep_, he commands mentally. _Sleep._

The effect is almost instantaneous. Jim's body goes limp, his breathing becoming deep and even.

Spock watches him, feeling a sudden intense protectiveness well up in his chest. Gently he reaches out and brushes a few strands of hair off Jim's face, and his breath catches as Jim nuzzles into the touch.

He pulls his hand away as if scalded and leaves, heading straight back to his room to meditate. Perhaps contact with a human mind, however brief, was not such a good idea, but when Spock thinks of Jim's face, relaxed in sleep, he cannot bring himself to regret it.

* * *

Once finals are over, Jim starts to wonder about Spock's plans for the holiday. He doubts Spock will be going back to Vulcan, what with the situation between him and his parents being what it is, and Jim doesn't like the idea of leaving Spock here alone while he spends Christmas with his family.

As it happens, it's Spock who broaches the subject first. "What are your plans for the holiday?" he asks, as they are grabbing lunch together in the mess hall.

"Going home to Iowa," he replies. "How about you?"

Spock's gaze grows slightly evasive. "There are some experiments I am planning to work on over the break."

"So you're going to stay here on campus then?"

Spock nods.

"Do you want to?" The question is out almost before Jim realises he's going to ask it.

"What I want is irrelevant," Spock says baldly. "I have nowhere else to go."

Jim considers that for a few seconds before abruptly coming to a decision. "You can come home with me," he says.

Spock blinks, looking uncertain. "Would your parents not object?"

"No," Jim says, "Sam brings friends home all the time. It'll be fine." He bites his lip. "Unless you don't want to?"

It seems like the perfect plan to him, but he doesn't want to do it if it'll make Spock feel uncomfortable.

Spock is silent for a long moment, considering. "I believe I would like that," he says finally, and Jim feels like he's about to explode with happiness.

x x x

That night Jim contacts his parents. He writes them every week, but it's still a while since they've talked face to face. He feels a slight touch of nerves as he taps in the code; he doesn't think they'll object to letting Spock stay with them, but in retrospect he should probably have asked first.

His mother answers almost immediately, her face lighting up when she sees him. "Jim! Oh, it's so good to see you!" She turns away and yells, "George! It's Jim!" before turning back to him with a smile. "How have you been?"

"Good," Jim says, smiling back at her. He's missed his parents these last few months. "Finals were hard, but I think I did okay."

"Of course you did," she tells him. "And we're very proud of you."

His father arrives at that moment, slipping into the seat beside his mother. "Hello, son," he says. "Looking forward to coming home?"

"Hi, Dad," Jim replies. "Yes, I am. I can't wait to see you all." He takes a breath and adds, "I wanted to ask you, is it okay if I bring a friend home for Christmas?"

His mother waggles her eyebrows suggestively. "What _kind_ of friend?"

"Not that kind, Mom," Jim replies, rolling his eyes. He ignores the voice in his head that tells him that's not entirely true, and adds, "Remember I told you about Spock?"

His father frowns. "The Vulcan?"

Jim nods. "That's right. He doesn't have any family here, and no one should have to spend the holiday alone."

His mother and father exchange glances. "Well, I suppose that would be all right," his mother says. "Are there any special arrangements he needs?"

"He's a vegetarian," Jim replies. "Oh, and try not to touch him. I think that's about it."

"I've known a few Vulcans in my time," George says. "I'm sure we'll manage." He grins and adds, "It'll be an adventure. I haven't had enough of those since I retired."

Winona slaps him on the arm before turning her attention back to Jim. "When will you be coming home?" she asks.

Jim frowns, trying to remember his schedule. "Saturday. Probably the 1015 shuttle, but we might have to get a later one."

"Well, we'll look out for you. And Spock." She smiles. "I must admit, with the amount you talk about him I'm quite looking forward to meeting him."

Jim hopes his blush isn't visible on his cheeks. "That's great, Mom. I'll see you Saturday."

"Love you, son," his father says.

"Love you, too," Jim replies, and the screen goes dark.

x x x

A little coaxing reveals that Spock has never been anywhere on Earth except San Francisco and a brief trip to Boston, so a tiny town in the middle of Iowa is almost entirely out of his comfort zone. He seems fairly animated by the prospect, however, asking Jim all kinds of questions about what he should pack, and what they will be doing, and whether his parents are really okay with Jim bringing a friend. (The third time he asks, Jim demands to know if Spock thinks he's _lying _about their responses, which thankfully stops him in his tracks.)

The 'what should I pack' question proves to be more difficult. Most of Spock's clothing is designed for more temperate climates than mid-winter Iowa. In the end Jim convinces him to pack the warmest, thickest sweaters and coats he can find, with the promise that they'll go shopping for more once they get there.

Saturday arrives almost before Jim realises it. He rolls out of bed at 0830, wishing Spock hadn't insisted on getting the 1015 shuttle. Ben, who is actually around for once, rouses long enough to mumble, "Have a good trip," before pulling the blanket over his head and going back to sleep.

He feels more awake once he's showered and dressed, and is outside Spock's room, bulging duffle bag in hand, at precisely 0915. Spock opens the door looking considerably more awake and well-presented than anyone has the right to be this early on a Saturday.

"You got everything?" Jim asks, as Spock steps out into the hallway.

Spock raises an eyebrow. "I would not be leaving if I did not." He pulls the strap of his bag onto his shoulder and adds almost inaudibly, "I made a list."

"So did I," Jim admits amiably. "Sam always said it was weird, but it made sure I never forgot anything." He carefully avoids thinking about some of the other lists he's made. "We'd better go if we're going to catch the shuttle."

They arrive at the station with time to spare. They already have tickets – Spock insisted on paying for his over Jim's protests – so they check the schedule and head directly for Bay 15.

The station is busy, people of all species rushing frantically to catch their shuttles. Jim notices Spock shifting a little closer to him as they walk and shoots a worried glance at him, but Spock isn't showing any signs of distress so he lets it go.

It takes them several minutes to reach Bay 15, and the shuttle is already there when they arrive. They climb on board and stow their bags before sitting down. "Are you excited?" Jim asks, rubbing his hands together with glee.

"Excitement is an emotion," Spock tells him, but Jim doesn't miss the glint in his eye as the shuttle takes off.

It's an hour ride to Des Moines, followed by a fifteen minute ride to Riverside, and a ten minute walk to Jim's house. It's snowing when they get to Riverside and, even wearing his very thickest clothes, Spock quickly begins to look uncomfortable. By the time they arrive at Jim's house, his lips have turned an unhealthy shade of green and Jim's joy at seeing his parents again takes a backseat to getting Spock warm as fast as possible.

"Hi, Mom, hi, Dad, this is Spock," he says, pushing Spock past them and into the heat of the house. He sees a fire burning in the living room and sends Spock off to warm up before turning to give his parents a proper greeting.

His mother pulls him in for a hug and whispers sternly, "You made a _Vulcan _walk half a mile in the snow?"

"Good to see you too, Mom," Jim replies. He sneaks a glance at Spock, who has positioned himself as close to the fire as to be practically in it, and adds, "I know, I should have gotten a taxi, but I didn't think it'd be that bad. I'll know better next time."

"I hope so," Winona says. She runs her hands down his arms and smiles. "It's good to see you."

"Hasn't been the same without you these last few months," George adds, and Jim finds himself having to blink back tears.

"Thanks, Mom, Dad. It's good to see you too. Come meet Spock." He leads them into the living room.

"Spock, these are my parents."

Spock uncurls himself and stands. "Dr Kirk, Admiral Kirk. It is nice to make your acquaintance."

Winona smiles. "George and Winona, please." At Spock's nod, she adds, "Jim's told us so much about you."

Spock looks vaguely surprised at that. "Indeed?"

"Yes, and if you're as good a friend to him as he makes out, then you're very welcome to stay here." Her smile grows broader. "I'm glad he has someone watching out for him."

Spock looks somewhat nonplussed. "I see. In that case I will… continue to watch out for him."

George and Winona sit down on the couch opposite the fire. Jim hesitates for a moment, then settles himself in front of the fire. As he intended, Spock sits beside him, after first removing his coat and setting it aside. He seems slightly more comfortable now that they're indoors, but he's still several shades paler than he should be.

"So, Jim tells us you're on the science track?" Winona asks Spock. "I was, too."

"Yes," Spock says. "Jim told me."

She looks pleased. "I hoped Jim would follow in my footsteps, but he takes after his father." She leans forward, intent on Spock. "What exactly are you studying?"

Before long the two of them are deep in discussion on the merits of J'Kal's paper on… something about exobiology. Jim likes to think he's a fairly smart guy, but after a few sentences he gives up on the idea of understanding their discussion and just watches the back and forth. From his father's expression, he's pretty sure he's doing the same.

After a few moments Jim stands and goes over to his father. "They seem to be hitting it off," he says.

His father nods, not taking his eyes off the vigorous debate. "I don't think I've seen your mother this animated in years."

Winona laughs, suddenly, clapping her hands on her knees. "Oh, I'm glad Jim thought to bring you," she says. "Most people round here don't even know who J'Kal is."

Spock ducks his head shyly. "I, too, found the discussion stimulating," he says quietly.

She claps her hands again. "Well, in that case, what did you think of-"

George cuts her off. "Win, let the poor boy settle in before you start hounding him."

Her eyes widen. "Oh, you're right. Where are my manners?" She glances at Jim, then at Spock. "Would you boys like something to drink?"

"I'll have a coffee, please," Jim says.

Spock looks uncertain. "Do you have tea?" he asks.

"We've got a whole bunch of teas," Winona replies. She begins ticking them off on her fingers. "Let's see, we've got black, green, ginger, camomile, lemon…"

"Camomile," Spock says, then adds after a moment, "Please."

She smiles. "Coming right up."

"I'll help you," George says, and follows her into the kitchen, leaving Jim and Spock alone.

"So what do you think?" Jim asks, settling down again next to Spock.

"They seem kind," Spock says, but his gaze is fixed on a patch of floor by Jim's knee. "You are very fortunate."

Jim has to force down a sudden rush of anger at Spock's parents. It's obvious he still thinks he doesn't deserve to be happy and loved the way children should be. He reins it in firmly and settles for laying a comforting hand on Spock's knee. "They really like you," he says. "Just like I knew they would."

Spock looks at him, then, as if he can't quite believe Jim is serious. But before Jim can say more, his father comes back into the room and the moment is lost.

x x x

After they've finished their drinks, Jim takes Spock upstairs to show him their room. "I hope you don't mind," he says, as he dumps his bag in the corner and turns to survey the room. "I know you don't normally have a roommate."

The room has barely changed since he left for Starfleet almost four months ago, and Jim feels a brief pang of nostalgia. The only difference from his memories is the camp-bed set up on the other side of the room, and even that evokes memories of when he was a kid, having sleepovers with his friends.

"I do not mind," Spock says, bringing Jim back to the present. "Sharing a room with a… friend… is a different matter from sharing with a stranger."

Jim smiles. He knows they're friends, but Spock doesn't often come out and say it. "I'm glad you think so." He closes the door and gestures to the lock. "If you want some time alone, to meditate or whatever, just lock the door. I won't mind." He considers that for a moment and adds, "Well, unless it's the middle of the night or something."

"I do not believe that will be necessary, but I shall keep it in mind," Spock says. "Thank you."

"No problem," Jim says. "Are you okay with the camp-bed, or-"

"It will be fine," Spock says. He hesitates briefly, then asks, "Will your brother be staying here?"

Jim frowns, the thought of Sam chasing away his good mood. "Yes, but only for a few days. He arrives on Tuesday and leaves on Saturday. With any luck we'll barely see him."

His gaze catches on a stray controller peeking out from under his bed and thoughts of Sam are forgotten as an idea hits him. "Hey, Spock," he says, feeling a grin spread across his face, "do you know what video games are?"

* * *

Spock has never played a 'video game' before. In some ways it is similar to the simulations he has worked through in lessons, but with much less realistic tasks to perform.

In this one, for example, he is piloting an air-car around a track, attempting to complete a pre-set course faster than Jim. That in itself is not strange, but apparently he is expected to do this while collecting brightly coloured blobs that perform a variety of bizarre and interesting functions, and attempting to avoid the hazards created by Jim's brightly coloured blobs.

But Jim's enthusiasm is infectious and, despite the illogical nature of the game, Spock soon becomes engrossed. He is does not realise how much time has passed until Jim's mother comes up to ask if they want any lunch.

Jim immediately pauses the game and leaps up. "I'm starving," he says. "What are we having?"

"Just sandwiches," Winona replies. "I didn't know when you boys were going to get here, so I didn't want to make anything too elaborate."

"That's fine," Jim says. "I'm sure it's still miles better than cafeteria food."

Spock follows him down to the kitchen. Jim's father is already there, sitting at the table with a half-eaten sandwich in one hand and a PADD in the other. He glances up as they walk in and gestures at a loaf of bread and selection of fillings laid out on the side. "Help yourselves," he says, before going back to his reading.

Jim piles his sandwich with what looks like a little of everything. When he finally tops it with the second slice of bread it is about two inches high and Spock wonders idly how he intends to eat it. For himself, he surveys the options on offer – many of them meats of some kind – and confines himself to two slices of unusually yellow cheese and some lettuce.

They sit down at the table with their sandwiches and a glass of water each. Spock takes a bite of his sandwich and is pleasantly surprised by the taste of the cheese. He watches as Jim wrestles with his own giant sandwich, coming up from a bite with mayonnaise daubed across his nose. "I've missed this," he says happily, before digging in for another bite. His mother rolls her eyes, smiling, and hands him a cloth.

As they are eating, Spock hears a rattling sound coming from the back door, and looks over at to see a black and white cat strolling across the floor. The next moment Jim is out of his seat, crouching down by the cat. "Molly!" he cries, scratching behind its ears – _her_ ears, Spock supposes, given the name. "Did you miss me?"

Molly meows.

"That's right," Jim says, as if he can understand her. He looks up at Spock. "Do you like cats?" he asks.

Spock has never actually encountered one in person before. All his knowledge is from books. "I… am not sure," he says. He stands up and approaches slowly, kneeling down next to Jim.

"Just stroke her gently," Jim says. "Like this." He demonstrates, and Molly purrs, rubbing her head against his fingers.

It looks simple enough. Spock reaches out and carefully strokes the cat from neck to tail. Her purr loudens, and he strokes her again and again. It is a surprisingly soothing motion.

"I think she likes you," Jim says, grinning. He scratches behind Molly's ears and goes to wash his hands in the sink before going back to his sandwich. Spock follows suit, a little reluctantly.

"She must like you," Winona says, as Molly disappears into the hallway. "I've never seen her so affectionate towards strangers before."

Spock doesn't know what to say to that, so he just ducks his head and concentrates on his food. He is reminded suddenly of I-Chaya, and decides then and there that, yes, he does like cats.

x x x

He and Jim spend the rest of the day playing video games, then after dinner they watch a movie with Jim's parents. Spock is not much interested in the movie, but with Jim sitting beside him and Molly curled up on his lap, that doesn't seem to matter.

x x x

The next day Jim insists on taking him shopping for warmer clothes. The thought of going back out into the cold is extremely unappealing, but Jim refuses to take no for an answer.

"You're going to have to go outside at some point," he points out, "and when you do you're going to need proper clothes."

"That would be a good argument," Spock replies, "were it not for the fact that in order to purchase these clothes I will first have to go outside."

Jim sighs. "There's a mall around fifty miles from here. I was going to suggest we take the air-car and spend the day there. And it's all inside, so you won't get cold."

"Oh," Spock says, considering Jim's words. "That would be acceptable."

Jim shakes his head with a laugh. "You really need to learn to trust me," he says, but the fondness in his tone belies his words. "C'mon, grab your things and let's go."

Spock is mildly concerned when he learns that Jim intends to drive them himself, but it turns out he approaches driving with the same care and diligence he does everything else. Spock stares out the window as they fly, committing to memory the sight of frozen lakes and snow covered fields.

"Little different from Vulcan?" Jim's voice, tinged with amusement, breaks into Spock's thoughts and he briefly turns away from the window.

"That is one way of putting it," he says. "It is…" he trails off, unable to think of a word that does not have unacceptably emotional connotations.

Jim grins. "There's more you can do with it than just look, you know," he says. "When we've gotten you some proper clothes, I'll show you what else snow is good for."

Spock does not know whether to anticipate that lesson, or dread it.

The mall is visible from the air long before they reach it. Spock mentally calculates the size and is momentarily taken aback. He has come across buildings of that size, of course, and quite a few that were larger, but never one devoted solely to shopping.

"How many stores are there in this mall?" he asks.

"About 250," Jim replies. "And a cinema, a bowling alley, about two dozen restaurants, and I can't remember what else." He sneaks a glance at Spock. "Now do you understand why I suggested making a day of it?"

Spock can only nod.

The mall includes an inside parking lot proportional to its size, and Spock makes sure to memorise the area around them as they land. He has no wish to return after shopping and be unable to locate the car, and right now that seems like a distinct possibility.

Spock is hit with cool air when he steps out of the air-car, but it is nowhere near the freezing cold he felt yesterday while walking with Jim to his home. Between his coat and his Vulcan training, it is easily manageable.

Slowly they make their way across the parking lot and into the main part of the mall. Even with the chance to prepare himself it is a somewhat remarkable sight; stores stretching into the distance on either side, selling everything one could possibly imagine.

There are people everywhere, and he finds himself shifting instinctively closer to Jim. "Where did you plan to start?" he asks.

"I hadn't given it much thought," Jim replies. He looks Spock up and down and says, "I suppose we should start with coats. I think there's a store that sells them down this way."

He sets off to the left, and Spock follows quickly. The last thing he wants is to lose Jim somewhere in this sea of humanity.

Some time later, Spock has purchased the thickest coat he can find, along with a hat, boots, and a pair of self-warming gloves. The store personnel seem somewhat surprised to be outfitting a Vulcan, but they are professionals and do not remark upon it. Jim, meanwhile, has bought several pairs of socks, and a jumper with a ridiculous reindeer pattern on it. When Spock questions him on the latter, Jim shrugs and says shortly, "Present for Sam."

From his tone Spock infers that the ridiculous pattern is intentional, and does not question further.

They break for lunch at what Jim calls the 'food court', a group of restaurants and stalls clustered around an open area filled with chairs and tables. To Spock's surprise, at least one stall claims to serve Vulcan food. The chances of it being authentic are miniscule, but Spock decides to take a chance anyway and orders their Ulan soup. Jim gets a chicken salad from a nearby stall and they sit down together to eat.

As he suspected, the Ulan soup tastes nothing like the real thing, but it is pleasant enough. He is halfway through the bowl when Jim asks, "Is there anything else you need to get?"

Spock frowns, thinking. He cannot think of anything more that he needs, but Jim's comment about buying a present for his brother has sparked the idea of purchasing gifts for Jim and his family. They are letting him spend the holiday with them, after all, and it is only fair he repay their kindness. Besides, he would not put it past Jim to already be planning to get him a gift – as though opening up his home to Spock was not enough.

"Yes," he says finally. "But… would it be possible for me to have some time alone?"

"You mean split up to shop?" Jim asks. When Spock nods, he continues, "Yeah, I was thinking of suggesting that myself. Great minds, I guess."

He finishes his salad and checks the time. "Meet back here in… what? An hour?"

"That should be sufficient," Spock says. "I shall contact you if I need more time."

"Great." Jim grins and tosses his empty container into a trash chute before striding off towards the other end of the mall.

Spock finishes his soup as he ponders what to get Jim and his parents. By the time he disposes of his empty bowl, he has the beginnings of an idea.

His first stop is a store selling plants and flowers. His mother was always fond of plants, and from what Jim has told him, Winona is much the same. Spock browses for some time, studying the plants on offer and trying to decide which would be the best choice. He politely declines the help of several enthusiastic assistants, preferring to decide for himself, and eventually settles on a small green plant bearing red, blue, and yellow flowers. The Starfleet colours seem particularly appropriate.

Once he has paid for the plant, Spock heads off to find something for Jim. His original idea is to purchase something that will remind Jim of space, but then he passes a store selling a selection of coloured glass bottles, and is hit by an entirely different idea.

He stands there considering it for a moment, weighing up the pros and cons. His idea involves a piece of Vulcan culture that he is certain Jim is not familiar with, but the more he thinks about it, the more it seems like the perfect way to show Jim how much he appreciates their friendship.

Decision made, he enters the store.

x x x

When Spock makes his way back to their meeting point after finishing his shopping, Jim is already there waiting for him. He grins and waves at Spock as he approaches. "Did you get everything you wanted?" he asks once Spock has reached him.

Spock nods. "And you?"

Jim looks very happy with himself. "All present and accounted for." He checks the time, then glances around. "We don't have to be home for hours; do you want to see a movie or something before we head back?"

"I would not be averse to that," Spock replies.

Jim smiles. "Great. Let's dump this stuff in the car, and then we can explore our options."

Despite Spock's concerns, they find the air-car easily and, after stashing their bags in the back, they head down towards the part of the mall that contains the movie theatre, along with other diversions such as an amusement arcade and a bowling alley.

After checking out the movies on offer, they decide to go bowling instead. Spock has never tried bowling before, but Jim is willing – even eager – to explain. "I used to go bowling with my friends when I was a kid," he explains, as he shows Spock how to hold the ball.

It doesn't take long for Spock to gain a basic understanding of the game, and once he has a good grasp of the weight of the ball and the angles needed to hit the pins, he quickly excels. The first time he gets a strike, Jim cheers. He seems less enthused by the next ten strikes.

Spock finishes the game with a near-perfect score. "Do all Vulcans bowl like you?" Jim asks, sounding equal parts annoyed and impressed.

"As bowling is not practiced on Vulcan, I cannot say," Spock says. "But the calculations needed are not difficult. I suspect most Vulcans would be able to complete them." He glances at the screen, still showing their scores from the game. "Would you like to play again?"

Jim laughs. "No, I think I'll quit while I'm behind, thanks. How about we head home?"

Spock agrees and they make their way back to the parking lot.

x x x

The next day Spock has a chance to test out his new winter-wear, as Jim insists on taking him on a walk. Jim looks amused as he takes in the three or four layers of clothing Spock insists on wearing, but thankfully doesn't comment.

The blast of cold air when they step out of the house is unpleasant, but once they get moving it is actually not so bad. Jim shows him the fields – now all covered in snow – and the barn, and a frozen pond that he insists he and his friends used to skate on when they were younger.

"That does not seem wise," Spock says.

Jim nods, still looking at the pond. "No, I suppose it wasn't. But you don't think about that when you're a kid."

Spock has been called upon to understand and explain all possible consequences of his behaviour since he was four years old. He does not mention this.

"Are you cold?" Jim asks.

Spock is slightly chilled, but with his new clothes it is bearable. "I am adequate," he says.

Jim smiles. "Then there's something else I want to show you."

He leads the way back to his house, but instead of going in, he heads past it into the back yard. He stands there for a moment, hands on hips, surveying the snow-covered grass, before he says, "Spock, do you know what a snowman looks like?"

x x x

Some time later they have created a passable snowman. Jim did not seem impressed by Spock's attempts to ensure that the 'head' and 'body' were as close to spherical as possible, but the overall effect is quite striking. The snowman stands nearly six feet tall, and Jim has poked holes where its eyes, nose, and mouth should be.

Drawing on his knowledge of traditional snowmen, Spock hunts around until he finds two branches suitable for arms, and Jim laughingly donates his own scarf, draping it around the snowman's neck.

As they step back to look at their handiwork, a thought occurs to Spock. "Jim, what makes this a snowman, as opposed to a snowwoman?"

Jim just laughs.

The back door of the house opens before Spock can repeat his question. "Jim?" George Kirk calls, "Your mother says it's time to come in."

As they make their way over, his eyes catch on their handiwork. "That's some snowman you've built there," he says admiringly.

"Thanks, Dad," Jim says, stepping into the kitchen and beginning to shed his outer layers.

"And I see you gave him your scarf," George continues. "Afraid he'd get cold?"

Jim's cheeks are already red from cold, but Spock thinks he sees them turn a little redder at the question. "It's traditional," he says. "Besides, Spock made the arms."

George smiles. "I'm just teasing you," he says. "I think he looks great."

Spock takes one more glance outside before the door closes, and thinks that he has to agree.

* * *

Sam arrives the next afternoon. Jim hangs back as he greets their parents, as his mother wraps her arms around him. He can see the instant Sam notices him, how his expression goes slightly blank. "Jim," he greets politely.

Jim is halfway through forming an 'S' sound when he abruptly changes his mind. "George," he replies instead. Sam was his beloved brother, and the boy standing in front of him hasn't been that for a while.

He sees his parents exchanging glances, and digs his nails into his palm. He isn't the one who screwed up their relationship, and he's sick of being the one who gives in to keep the peace. If Sam wants his little brother's respect back, he can damn well earn it.

Sam's eyes flicker to a point over Jim's shoulder, and Jim realises he's almost forgotten about Spock. The Vulcan is standing just behind and to the right of him, close enough that their arms brush. Jim is suddenly fiercely grateful for his presence. "This is Spock," he says. "My friend."

He glances at Spock, almost smiling at the carefully guarded concern in the dark eyes, and adds, "My brother, George Jr."

Belatedly, he remembers he's only ever spoken of his brother as 'Sam'. Spock doesn't seem particularly confused by the change, but he makes a mental note to explain later.

Spock's gaze moves to look at Sam, and Jim can't help but notice that his expression becomes colder, the affection he showed Jim gone in an instant. "Indeed. Jim has spoken of you frequently."

Sam opens his mouth and then closes it abruptly. Jim is fairly certain he was going to make an 'all good?' joke, only to stop when he realised that Spock would probably answer honestly. Instead he turns to their mother and says with forced cheerfulness, "Well, I'm going to go settle in before dinner. I'll see you later."

He disappears up the stairs. Winona turns to Jim and starts to say something, but he shakes his head. "I don't want to talk about it." He turns, laying a hand on the sweater-covered arm next to him, and adds, "Come on, Spock, let's go play chess."

x x x

If Jim thought he could get through the week without having a confrontation with his brother, he was wrong. He barely makes it a day.

The day after Sam arrives home, Spock finally kicks Jim out of their shared room. He doesn't put it quite that way, of course, but he asks for privacy in order to meditate, and Jim isn't about to deny him. He decides to go for a walk in the back yard until Spock is finished.

Their snowman is still there, standing in the middle of the yard like a soldier. Jim smiles a little when he sees it. Spock's fingers had been green with cold by the time they finished, but he never once complained.

He's still staring at the snowman when he hears a voice from behind him. "Remember when we decided we were going to make the biggest snowman in the world?"

Jim does remember. He was eight and Sam was twelve. He remembers spending hours making a body taller than either of them, and being halfway through making a head before they realised they didn't have any way of putting it in place.

Things seemed so much simpler back then.

"What do you want, George?" he asks, not bothering to turn around.

There's silence for a moment, and he can hear the sound of someone shuffling about. "Mom says you're doing well," his brother offers.

Jim just shrugs, his eyes fixed on the snowman.

There's the sound of footsteps and Sam appears in front of him. "Dammit, Jim, what do you want me to say?"

Jim's lips turn upwards in a sneer. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe that you're happy for me? That you're glad I'm following my dreams? That you support me? You're supposed to be my _brother_, Sam!" In the heat of the moment he barely notices that he's slipped back into using his old nickname.

"I _am _your brother!" Sam replies. "That's why I don't understand why you're doing this. You remember how sad Mom got whenever Dad left. How he missed birthdays, Christmases, school plays. He missed my graduation, Jim!"

"Because he was _out there_," Jim fires back, pointing at the sky. "Exploring new worlds, meeting new people, seeing things that we couldn't possibly imagine."

"And abandoning his family in the process!" Sam stamps his foot. "I don't _get_ you. If Starfleet hadn't screwed up on Tarsus, you'd have had the chance to be a normal kid. How can you join them after that?"

Jim takes a physical step back at that, feeling like he's been punched in the stomach. It's the most hurtful thing Sam has ever said to him; he's pretty sure it would've hurt less if he'd actually hit him.

Even Sam seems to realise he's gone too far. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," he says, but it's far too late for apologies.

Jim's vision blurs with unshed tears. "You don't get it," he says bitterly. "That's _why_ I wanted to join Starfleet. So I can keep something like that from ever happening again."

Before Sam can respond, he turns and sets off towards the house at a run. He can hear Sam yelling his name, but ignores it, hurtling through the door into the house, up the stairs and into his room, locking the door behind him.

He strips off his coat, throwing it onto the bed, then flops down on the carpet and brings his knees up to his chest, running a sleeve over his eyes impatiently.

"Are you all right, Jim?"

The voice startles him, and it's only then that he realises he's barged into Spock's meditation. The Vulcan is kneeling on a mat about six feet away, but as Jim watches he rises and comes over.

"I'm sorry for interrupting," he says, attempting a smile.

"It is of no consequence," Spock says, eyes bright with concern. "Is there anything I can do?"

Jim shakes his head. "I'll be fine. Go back to your meditation."

To his surprise, Spock doesn't. Instead he hesitates for a moment, before sitting down next to Jim, close enough that their shoulders rub together. "I would… like to help," he says carefully.

It may be slightly awkward, but it's obvious he's trying to offer comfort, and Jim feels a great rush of affection. "I had an argument with my brother," he explains quietly. "It brought up some bad memories."

"Ah," Spock says. Then hesitantly, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Jim says immediately, before the heat of Spock's arm against him makes him rethink it. "Not right now. But someday."

Spock doesn't say anything to that, but his hand moves to rest, very gently, on Jim's arm. Jim leans against him gratefully; he still isn't ready to talk about it, but sitting here with Spock, 'someday' suddenly seems a lot closer than before.


	4. Merry Christmas

**Chapter 4 – Merry Christmas**

The next day is Christmas Eve, and Jim and Spock spend the morning accompanying Jim's father to the woods to cut down a Christmas tree.

George gives them a list of qualities they should look for; about six foot high, lots of branches, a nice long trunk, and then the three of them split up.

Spock does not entirely understand the purpose of the exercise, but he wishes to be helpful, so puts all of his effort into finding a suitable conifer. After a few minutes of searching, he finds one that hits all the stipulated points, as well as being pleasingly symmetrical. He points it out to Jim, and his friend's eyes immediately light up.

"Spock, it's _perfect_," he says happily, then yells, "Hey, Dad! We found one!"

George comes striding through the trees with his laser cutter. "Good choice, boys," he says, as he studies the tree.

"Spock found it," Jim says, and Spock blinks as George's eyes land on him. "You said you've never picked out a Christmas tree before?" he asks.

Spock shakes his head. "No, sir. I have never even seen a Christmas tree before today. Apart from in pictures."

George smiles. "Well, kid, you've got a knack for it." He motions them to stand back, then looks back at Spock. "You want to help me cut it down?"

Spock glances at Jim, who nods furiously. "Yes," he decides.

George shows him how to operate the cutter. "Just put your hands here, and aim it at the trunk right there, like that."

Spock complies. He remembers his own father guiding him like this when he was very young. Back when such things weren't considered a weakness. It gives him a strange aching feeling in his chest.

With one hand on the cutter to steady it, George flicks the switch to turn it on. A beam appears out of the top and begins to cut into the trunk in front of them. Carefully, with George's help, Spock moves the cutter across until he has covered the whole diameter of the trunk, making sure to angle the beam so that the tree will fall away from them.

Sure enough, the tree falls backwards into the snow. George turns off the cutter and bends down to pick up the trunk, ordering, "Jim, you take the end, Spock can go in the middle."

Spock hurries to comply, and together the three of them bring the tree back to the house.

Once they get there, Spock leaves Jim and his father to set up the tree and retreats upstairs. For the first time since he has arrived here, he locks the door of Jim's room. He does not like locking his friend out like this, but it is necessary. It is time to wrap Jim's gift.

The finished product is less polished than Spock would like – he has never actually wrapped a present before, and Jim's is a rather inconvenient shape – but it is fully covered and so he deems it acceptable. He writes _To Jim, from Spock_ on it in small, neat letters, and moves on to the gift he bought for Jim's parents.

By the time Jim comes up to the room to tell him they've got the tree set up, Spock has finished his wrapping and stashed the presents carefully under his bed.

They eat lunch, then begin the much anticipated task of decorating the tree. Winona insists that Sam be involved in the decorating, which makes things slightly strained. Still, even with the tension between Jim and his brother, the process is rather fascinating.

Spock watches – and eventually is dragged in to help as – the family drape the tree in long strips of metallic fluff known as 'tinsel', then hang coloured balls and miniature objects on the branches. One of the objects is a clay circle with _Jimmy_ written on it in large, wobbly letters, but Spock doesn't have a chance to examine it fully before Jim has plucked it out of his hands, cheeks strangely pink, and hung it out of site on the other side of the tree.

The process is slowed somewhat by Molly, who keeps batting at the ornaments and has to be shooed away. She seems particularly fond of Spock, constantly rubbing up against him and butting his hands with her head. More than once, Spock finds himself absently reaching out to stroke her, and is oddly comforted by the purr he gets in response. He finds himself almost enjoying this decorating ritual.

Finally, when there is scarcely any green left visible and the tree looks as if it can hold no more, Winona pronounces it finished. She then holds up a large gold star and says, "Just one thing left. Spock, would you like to do the honours?"

Carefully, Spock extracts himself from Molly and stands. He takes the star from Winona and glances down at it, then up at the tree. There's only one spot he can see that isn't already covered. "It is to go on the top?" he asks.

Winona nods, and he reaches up and sets the star in place on top of the tree.

As soon as he steps back, Winona claps her hands together. "Oh, it looks wonderful," she says. "I'll go get the presents." She's out of the room before any of them can reply.

"You should feel honoured," Jim tells him, smiling. "Usually only family get to do the star."

Spock glances away, unsure how to respond to that, and catches Jim's brother watching him – watching them – with a curious expression. He turns away once he sees Spock looking at him, and Spock feels a strange surge of protectiveness. He remembers how utterly crushed Jim looked yesterday after their argument, and does not intend to let anything hurt him like that again. Not even family.

Turning to Jim, he asks, "Would it be possible for you to show me some more of your 'video games'?"

Jim grins. "Of course. I've been meaning to introduce you to Earth Colony II. I think you'll really like it."

They make their way up to Jim's room, leaving his brother behind.

x x x

Christmas Day begins early. Jim is awake by 0800, and he and Spock spend the time playing chess until his parents get up.

The five of them have a quick breakfast of toast and cereal and then assemble in the living room to open presents. Jim's parents sit on the sofa, while Sam curls up in an armchair, seemingly still half asleep. Jim sits down next to the tree, and Spock doesn't hesitate before joining him.

According to family tradition, Jim, as the youngest, is in charge of handing out the presents. He and his brother both end up with piles of gifts from their parents, George and Winona have a few each, and Spock ends up with two gifts, one from Jim, and one from his parents.

Once all the presents have been given out, Jim grins at him, then begins gleefully tearing into the stack before him.

Spock glances around before picking up the gift labelled as being from Jim. It is cuboid in shape, lighter than he would expect, and he shakes it gently before beginning to carefully remove the paper.

It turns out to be a box of Vulcan spice tea. Jim pauses in his attempts to turn a pile of nicely-wrapped presents into a larger pile of ripped paper long enough to ask, "Do you like it? I noticed you drinking it once or twice and I thought it might remind you of home."

Spock sets the box down carefully, touched by the gesture. "It is… most thoughtful. Thank you, Jim."

Jim beams. "I'm glad you like it."

He goes back to burying himself in paper as Spock picks up his second gift. This one is larger, soft and squashy, but before Spock has a chance to open it, he realises Jim has finally come across his gift for him.

Jim's expression as he uncovers the coloured glass container is equal parts confusion and awe. "It's beautiful," he says, glancing up at Spock. "What's it for?"

Spock swallows, wondering if what he thought was a good idea perhaps wasn't. "On Vulcan," he begins slowly, "water is very scarce. In ancient times the gift of water, or a container to store it in, was a way of sealing… friendships. It is a somewhat outdated tradition, but I thought perhaps…."

He trails off. Jim is staring at him with a very strange expression. "If you do not like it-" he begins, but Jim cuts him off.

"Like it? No, Spock, I_ love_ it." He touches Spock's arm, sending warmth through his whole body. "I think it's the best present I've ever gotten."

That seems somewhat unfair to Jim's parents, but when he looks over at them, they don't seem to mind. Winona, in particular, looks almost as happy as Jim. Spock ducks his head, uncomfortable with all of the attention, and realises he is still clutching his second gift.

Curious, he carefully removes the paper to find a scarf, hat, and gloves, all in a deep shade of blue.

"I realise you and Jim already got you some, but I thought you might like some spares," Winona explains.

"Indeed," Spock replies, fingering the tasselled edge of the scarf. "Thank you."

She smiles. "And thank you for the plant. It was very thoughtful."

Spock nods, relieved at the knowledge that she liked his gift. "You are welcome."

Jim ends up with a mixture of books (one real, the rest on computer tapes), video games, and more 'useful' presents such as food and clothing. Sam mostly has credit chips, and does not seem impressed with his reindeer sweater.

His own gift to Jim is a pair of black socks with yellow stars on them. "To remind you of space." It is not, in and of itself, a bad gift, but knowing the relationship between the two it is hard for Spock not to see it as a jibe. Jim apparently feels the same, as his "Thank you," sounds more than a little forced.

Still, it is a remarkably pleasant experience, overall, and Spock feels warm all over again when he and Jim retreat to Jim's room and he sees Jim putting his gift in pride of place on his dresser. "Is it really a Vulcan tradition to offer water to seal a friendship?" he asks.

"Yes," Spock says. "In ancient times it was mostly used when making alliances between clans. It is rarely used nowadays, but the tradition lives on."

"I'm glad," Jim says, and Spock gets the impression he isn't just talking about the tradition any more.

"Indeed," he says softly.

x x x

Jim's father's parents are off-planet visiting his father's sister and her family, and so cannot come for dinner, but his mother's mother arrives at 1500.

The first words out of her mouth when she sees Spock are, "So, you're Jimmy's young man, are you?"

Luckily, Jim steps in before Spock has to think of a way to react to that. "He's not my young man, Grandma," he says, with the air of one who has had this conversation more than once. "He's just a friend."

Spock stands stock still as Jim's grandmother studies him intently, as if searching for holes in Jim's story. "Pity," she says finally, before wandering off to the kitchen in search of her daughter.

Jim waits until she's out of sight before slumping against the wall with a sigh. "Sorry about that," he says. "She's always been overly interested in my love life. I think her first thought when I told her I liked boys as well as girls was that now there were twice as many people she could set me up with."

He gives a huff of laughter, before his expression becomes more focused. "It didn't bother you, did it?" he says. "Her thinking that you were my boyfriend? I swear I didn't say anything like that to her."

"I did not think you did," Spock replies. "And no, it didn't bother me. We are aware of the truth. Nothing else matters."

An odd expression passes over Jim's face, but it's gone before Spock can identify it. "Right," he says. He glances around and adds, "Do you want to see what's on the vid-screen?"

They spend the time until dinner watching several Christmas-themed episodes and specials. They are somewhat difficult to follow, given Spock's limited knowledge of Christmas traditions, but as an insight into human culture, they are fascinating. He is almost disappointed when Jim's mother calls them away to set the table.

Well, she actually calls Jim away, but Spock is uncomfortable leaving him to do all the work by himself. He has been to enough formal dinners with his parents to know the proper layout. This is, of course, much simpler, but the knowledge translates well, although Jim seems amused by his attention to exact symmetry and spacing.

When they are finished there are six places set around the table; two on either side of the table, one at the head and one at the foot.

Spock sits on one side next to Jim, with Sam and his grandmother on the other side, and George and Winona at either end.

The five humans have turkey, while Spock is given a plate of nut loaf. It is not something he has tried before, but he finds himself enjoying it.

Jim's grandmother asks him a lot of questions, about himself, and Vulcans in general. Some of the questions lead Spock to believe she has not entirely given up on the idea of he and Jim being involved. But, as he told Jim, as long as they know the truth, other people's beliefs are of little consequence.

Still, by the time dinner is over, he is feeling somewhat overwhelmed and tells Jim quietly that he is going to go upstairs and meditate. Jim just nods, letting him go with a hand on the arm and a promise that he won't be disturbed.

Spock gives him a grateful look and heads upstairs to their room.

* * *

Jim isn't surprised when Spock retreats to their room to meditate; his friend is a very private person, and his grandmother seemed intent on finding out every last thing about him, despite Jim's best attempts to stop her.

Of course, with Spock gone, she starts in on Jim. The good news is she seems very fond of Spock, the bad news is she can't understand why the two of them aren't boyfriends, and no amount of 'we're just friends', or 'he's not interested' will dissuade her from her goal. Jim loves his grandmother dearly, but when she finally decides it's time to leave, he has to fight not to cheer.

Once she's gone, Jim's mother ropes him into helping clear up the kitchen, which he quickly learns is just a pretence so that they can talk. "Grandma can be a bit overzealous, huh?" she says as he begins loading dishes into the washer.

Jim snorts. "Was she always like this?" he asks.

"Yes."

He shakes his head in disbelief. "How did you stand it?"

Winona shrugs. "Mostly by not listening to a word she said." They share a smile and Jim goes back to loading dishes.

The silence is broken a few moments later by Winona saying slowly, "Jim, my mother can be annoying, but sometimes she has a point. Are you _sure_ there's nothing going on between you and Spock?"

Jim resists the urge to bash his head against the wall. "Not you too," he groans. "I already told you, we're just friends."

"Yes, but you want it to be more, don't you?" It's barely a question, the words gentle but firm. Jim has a sudden memory of being ten years old, unable to hide his crush on Jenny O'Connor from his mother.

"Jim?" she asks, and he can't lie. He gives a sharp nod.

She comes closer, laying a hand on his shoulder. "So why haven't you told him?"

Jim gives her an utterly baffled look. "He isn't interested in me, Mom. And even if he was, he's a Vulcan. They're not really big on the whole same-sex relationships thing."

He glances up at his mother to see her frowning. "Jim," she says, "I don't claim to be an expert on Vulcans, but I've been watching the two of you interact for days now, and that boy has barely left your side the whole time."

Jim sighs. "He's shy, and surrounded by strangers. It's not surprising he wants to stick close to the only person he really knows here."

From the look on her face, it's clear she isn't convinced. "All right, well what about the touching? All the Vulcans I've ever met had personal space bubbles the size of Texas. This morning I saw you touch Spock, right on the arm, and he didn't even blink. And I've seen him touch you, too."

Now that she mentions it, that does seem a little odd. A half-forgotten memory rises in his mind – Spock stroking his face, lulling him to sleep during a migraine. Surely he wouldn't do that for just anyone? But Spock told him that sort of thing doesn't happen on Vulcan….

Hope begins to rise in Jim's chest, and he pushes it down ruthlessly. His mother's just reading into things, that's all, and now she's got him doing it. It's practically a miracle that Spock has let him in this far, he has no right to hope for anything more. "You're wrong," he says. "He _told _me. Relationships like that aren't _logical_." He crosses his arms and turns away, swallowing past a sudden lump in his throat.

"Jim-" his mother starts, but he cuts her off.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Out of the corner of his eye he can see her raising her hands in surrender and stepping away. "All right, fine. Maybe I'm wrong. But at least think about it, Jim? You could be throwing away something wonderful."

Jim sighs. "All right. I'll think about it." Thinking never changed anything yet, but it's enough to make her happy.

"That's all I ask." She smiles and adds, "Can you check if there're any more glasses in the living room?"

Happy to get out of the kitchen, Jim obediently wanders into the living room to look for glasses. His dad hands him a couple when he asks, and he turns to go back to the kitchen when he sees Spock coming down the stairs.

He's struck, once again, by how attractive Spock is, and mentally curses his mother for making him think, even for a second, that he might have a chance there. Spock's friendship has been enough up to now and, dammit, he's going to make sure it stays that way.

With that in mind, he heads out into the hallway, still clutching the glasses. "Hey. Finished meditating?"

Spock nods. "Is your grandmother gone?" he asks.

It comes out a little wary, and Jim has to hold back a smile. "Yes, she's gone. You're safe."

He swears Spock relaxes incrementally at his words. "She is… an interesting woman."

Jim grins. "That's one way of putting it."

The edges of Spock's lips curve upwards slightly in response, before his eyes fall on the glasses in Jim's hands. "Would you like some assistance in clearing up?"

Jim follows his gaze. "Actually, I think we're almost finished. Besides you're the guest. It wouldn't be fair to put you to work."

Spock tilts his head. "You are not putting me to work. I am offering."

Jim shrugs. "Well, if you insist. Come on." He leads the way back to the kitchen.

His mother gives him a meaningful look when he re-enters the kitchen with Spock, but he just glares at her. He puts the last of the glasses in the washer and straightens up. "Is that everything?" he asks, turning to his mother.

"Yes, I think so," Winona replies. "You boys go play."

Jim glares at her again.

x x x

Sam leaves on the 27th, heading back to college to meet up with his girlfriend. Jim can't say the thought particularly bothers him; they've barely spoken two words to each other since the day in the garden when his brother decided to throw his worst memories back in his face. After that, there really wasn't much to say.

So he isn't exactly thrilled when Sam corners him the morning of his departure and asks if they can talk.

"We don't have anything to talk about," Jim snaps. "Leave me alone." Spock is in the bathroom, and their parents are downstairs, so they're alone for once. He'd be happy to change that, but Sam is blocking his only exit.

Sam runs a hand through his hair. "Look," he says. "I was a jerk. I know that. I never should have said what I said, and I'm sorry. Really."

Something inside Jim unclenches slightly, but he isn't about to let his guard down. "Keep talking," he says grudgingly.

"You were right. I haven't been a very good big brother, and I'm sorry for that. I know I can't make up for it, but-" Sam digs something out of his pocket. "Maybe this will help."

He hands Jim a computer tape. Jim turns it over in his hand. "What is it?"

Sam manages a smile. "My friend Mark? His cousin's an ensign in Starfleet. I got him to send me her notes from the academy." He shrugs. "She's an engineer, so I don't know how much use it'll be to you, but I thought it might help."

Jim stares down at the tape, unsure how to feel. "Does this mean you're okay with me being in Starfleet?"

Sam shuffles his feet. "I won't lie to you, Jim, I still don't like Starfleet. But you're my brother, and if this is what you want, I'll support you."

It isn't everything, but it's a start. "Thanks," Jim says, then shrugs and adds, "Sam."

His brother smiles. And, after a moment, Jim finds himself smiling back.

x x x

Jim and Spock's vacation after Sam leaves is much the same as it was before he arrived, but happier, as though some sort of tension has been removed from the house.

Their parents try to hide it, but Jim can tell they're happy that he and Sam made up. Spock is his usual impassive self, but he seems happy for Jim, if a little wary. It occurs to Jim that Spock might be concerned about Sam hurting him again, which makes him feel warm all over. He's fairly sure Sam's apology was genuine, but it still feels good to know that Spock cares enough to look out for him like that.

In his high over finally having his brother back, Jim considers suggesting that maybe Spock's problems with his parents could be solved too. He manages to keep himself from voicing the thought, though. Spock's family is his own business. All Jim can do is be there for him, the way Spock was for him.

The two of them have arranged to head back to campus just after New Year's, giving them enough time to settle in before classes start up again. Jim spends the time between Sam's departure and New Year's relaxing, playing games, watching movies, all with Spock at his side. (And usually Molly, who seems to have chosen Spock as her new favourite person. Jim doesn't know whether to be annoyed at her fickleness, or applaud her good taste.)

He still thinks his mother is wrong about Spock's feelings for him, but there are times when he wonders, just a little. Times when he looks up to catch Spock watching him, or when Spock agrees to something Jim knows he isn't really interested in to make Jim happy, or when he looks at the gift Spock gave him.

He starts experimenting with touching Spock, more and more, on the arm, the shoulder, the knee. Far from pulling away, Spock seems almost to lean into it. And then, gradually, he begins to reciprocate.

And then there's New Year's.

Spock has been acting strange all day; barely eating, spending long hours in meditation, curling up as close to the fire as he can even though the house is 75 degrees and he's wearing three layers of clothing. Jim has asked him at least three times if he's feeling okay, but always receives an answer in the affirmative.

Around 2200, Jim suggests they go to bed. His parents have gone out to a party, so it's just the two of them.

Spock blinks at him. "I thought the tradition was to stay up until midnight."

Jim sighs. "You don't have to observe every tradition, Spock, and you look exhausted."

It's precisely the wrong thing to say, as Spock immediately straightens up and proclaims, "I am fine."

Jim curses mentally as he recognises the look on Spock's face. There's no way he'll get him up to bed before midnight now without dragging him. "Fine," he says, with a sigh. "I think there's a movie on Channel 25."

Spock seems content with that, and they sit side by side to watch the movie; a documentary on the founding of the Federation. Spock sits closer than he usually does, but Jim doesn't think anything of it. At least, until about halfway through the movie.

He's watching Jonathan Archer make a speech to the soon-to-be Federation Council, when he feels something on his shoulder. He glances to the right and realises it's Spock, fallen asleep with his head on Jim's shoulder.

Jim's first thought is a wry, _Oh, yeah, you're _completely_ fine_. His second thought is that at least Spock is finally resting.

Carefully, trying not to wake him, he manoeuvres out from underneath, then lays Spock down on the sofa and covers him over with a blanket. Then he retreats to an armchair for the rest of the movie.

The documentary finishes at ten minutes to midnight. Jim turns off the screen, clears up the remnants of snacks and drinks, and turns off the fire. Then he turns to Spock, still unconscious on the sofa. He considers leaving him there, but he doubts his parents will appreciate the surprise when they get home.

He shoos Molly away from where she's curled up against Spock's stomach, then reaches out and shakes Spock lightly, thinking that at least he'll be awake for midnight like he wanted. Spock doesn't stir. Jim shakes him a little harder and he mumbles something unintelligible.

Frowning, Jim touches the back of his hand to Spock's forehead, and bites his lip as he feels the heat pouring off him. He knows Vulcans are usually hot, but this can't be normal.

He grips Spock's shoulder and shakes him firmly. "Spock. Spock!"

Spock groans and mumbles something that sounds like, "No, not Jim. Take me."

Jim blinks at the sound of his name, then resumes his shaking. "Spock!"

Spock finally rouses, looking confused. "Jim?" For an instant, naked concern crosses his face. "They didn't hurt you?"

"No," Jim assures him. "I'm fine. It was just a dream."

Spock blinks. "I… feel strange."

"You're running a fever," Jim tells him.

Spock blinks again. "That could explain it." He goes to sit up and frowns. "Why am I lying down?"

"You fell asleep," Jim replies, concerned by how out of it Spock still seems. "Listen, Spock, you're _really _warm. Are you going to be okay? Should I call someone?"

Spock seems to consider it for a moment, his gaze going distant. "No," he says finally. "I merely need rest." Jim's uncertainty must show on his face as he continues, "I understand your concern, but my body temperature, while elevated, is still far below the danger level for Vulcans. You do not need to worry unless I begin to hallucinate."

_There's a comforting thought._ "Maybe we should get you to bed," Jim suggests.

"That seems best," Spock agrees.

Spock is a little unsteady on his feet, so Jim helps him up the stairs and into their room. When Spock is sitting down on his bed, Jim remembers the time. He checks again. One minute past midnight. "Hey," he says. "Looks like you were awake for the New Year after all."

Spock seems to perk up a bit. "Indeed," he says. "Happy New Year, Jim."

Jim smiles. "Happy New Year."

As has become their routine, he grabs his pyjamas and goes to the bathroom to change. When he gets back, Spock is curled up under the blankets on his bed, with only the top of his head visible. Jim calls a goodnight, but gets no reply.

With a shrug, he turns off the lights and is soon asleep himself.

x x x

He's awoken in the middle of the night by a strange noise. After a few heart-pounding moments, he realises it's coming from Spock's side of the room.

He slips out of bed and makes his way over there, concerned that Spock's illness might have gotten worse. "Spock?" he whispers. "Are you okay?"

There's a shuffling sound, then Spock's voice comes out of the darkness. "Jim?"

"Yes, it's me."

"Not logical," is Spock's deeply confusing response.

"What isn't?" Jim asks, carefully lowering himself to the floor next to Spock's bed. His eyes are beginning to adjust, and he can just make out the shape of Spock's body under the covers.

"You," Spock replies, and Jim swears he sounds upset. "I tried to be logical, but you make me feel. I tried so hard not to feel." The words are followed by a sharp indrawn breath, almost a sob. "It isn't logical," he says. "It isn't _right_."

Jim aches for him. Gently, he reaches out and lays a hand on what he's fairly sure is Spock's shoulder. "Hey," he says. "It's okay. Go back to sleep."

"I tried," Spock says.

"I know," Jim replies softly. "Go back to sleep."

Spock makes a noise that might be an agreement, and Jim feels him shift under his hand. After a few minutes Jim hears his breathing become deep and even, and it's obvious he's fallen back asleep.

Jim stands and makes his way back to his own bed, but sleep is a long time in coming.

Spock's fever has thankfully broken by the morning, but he spends most of the next day sleeping off the remnants of his illness. He doesn't seem to have much memory of the things he said while he was ill, but no matter how much Jim tries to tell himself that Spock's words were purely due to the fever, he can't quite believe it. Spock probably wouldn't have said such things if he hadn't been feverish, but there was too much sincerity there for Jim to think it was entirely false.

He doesn't know how to feel about Spock's admission. On the one hand, it's the first real declaration of feeling he's ever heard from his friend, but the idea that their friendship might be causing Spock pain makes his heart ache.

And, he admits, there's a tiny part of him that wonders what exactly Spock meant by their friendship not being logical. That wonders if maybe, _maybe_, his mother might have had a point after all.


	5. Having and Wanting

**Chapter 5 – Having and Wanting**

Jim and Spock part ways once they get back to campus. After two weeks where they were barely out of each other's sight, it's a rather strange feeling.

Ben, according to his note, is not due to return for another two days, so Jim has the room to himself. He unpacks slowly, making sure that everything is in its right place, then spends some time deciding where to put the bottle Spock gave him. Finally he places it on the shelf over his desk and just stares at it for a moment, remembering Spock's explanation of its meaning. Friendship, loyalty, brotherhood. Connection.

He brushes his fingers across it gently, then turns away, fighting the sudden urge to contact Spock. Instead, he sits down at his desk and directs his attention to the problem that's been eating at him since New Year's.

His search of the nets revealed next to nothing about Vulcan sexual practices, nothing to indicate whether what Spock told him is true. It was frustrating, but Jim is nothing if not resourceful, and has already come up with a Plan B. And now that he's back on campus, he can put it into action.

It doesn't take much effort to hack into the academy records and bring up the list of students. Jim uses the option to search by species, then scrolls down to the v's. Besides Spock, there are only a handful of Vulcans at the academy, and it doesn't take him long to find one that might work; a fourth-year cadet called T'Ris.

Jim notes down her dorm and comm number, then turns off the computer. He checks the time; too late to visit her now. He'll try tomorrow.

He retreats to his bed with a book, but his mind keeps returning to what he'll say to T'Ris when he sees her. It isn't that he thinks Spock was lying to him, but he figures it can't hurt to have a second opinion. And if what she says agrees with what Spock says, maybe he can finally begin getting over this crush.

* * *

Spock, meanwhile, unpacks swiftly, then spends the rest of the day in meditation. Despite Jim's best efforts, his sessions back in Iowa were somewhat briefer than is ideal, and it is important he take the time to centre himself before classes start back up. Especially given his recent illness.

Spock concentrates on that thought, and allows it to lead him to another thought that has been bothering him. He was ill enough that night that he does not remember much beyond Jim helping him to bed, but he cannot shake the impression that he behaved… inappropriately somehow. Jim has not said anything about it, but there have been several times over the past few days when Spock has looked up to see Jim watching him with an almost curious expression.

In the meditative state it is easier to consider things calmly and analytically, and Spock quickly comes to the conclusion that he is overreacting. Surely Jim would have informed him if he had done anything unacceptable.

The thought of Jim leads to a rush of pleasant emotions, and the next part of Spock's meditation is devoted to identifying and cataloguing them. It is a process that has become more and more necessary as he and Jim have become closer, and Spock wonders, not for the first time, if perhaps he is growing too attached to his human friend.

_Possibly_, he admits to himself, _but the answer is irrelevant_. He has no intention of stopping.

When he goes to bed that night, he lies awake for some time, feeling oddly like something is missing. Eventually he realises he is listening for the sound of Jim's breathing.

* * *

The next day Jim heads over to T'Ris's dorm with a PADD and settles down outside to wait. He has to wait nearly an hour before he sees the tell-tale pointy ears, and nearly trips over himself in his haste to go after her.

"Excuse me," he says, stepping in front of her. "I don't mean to bother you, but can I ask you a question?"

"I am bonded, and would not be interested in you if I were not," she replies coldly, and steps around him.

Jim blinks, then hurries to catch up. "That wasn't what I was going to ask," he protests. "I'm not propositioning you, I just want some information."

Her expression grows slightly less frosty, but it's a long way from friendly. "Fine," she says. "Ask."

Jim chews on his lip, wondering how to phrase his question. Finally he just blurts it out. "How do Vulcans view same-sex relationships?"

Her expression seems to soften. Jim wonders idly if it's because she's finally accepted that he isn't hitting on her. "Such things are rarely spoken of," she says. "One's personal matters should be kept personal."

"But they do happen?" Jim asks.

She studies him for a moment and gives a short nod. "They are rare, but they exist, and are subject to the same rights as other couples."

So Spock was wrong. Somehow the knowledge doesn't make him as happy as he thought it would. "And it isn't seen as illogical?"

She stares at him. "Is the colour of your eyes logical? It is what it is." Then her eyes narrow. "However, if you intend this knowledge to be anything but strictly theoretical, I feel I should warn you that Vulcans seldom, if ever, become involved in relationships with non-Vulcans."

_But it must happen sometimes_, Jim thinks, _or Spock wouldn't exist_. He doesn't say that, though, just nods and smiles at her. "I'll keep that in mind," he says. "Thanks for your help."

She inclines her head in acknowledgement and strides off, leaving Jim with a lot to think about, and what seems like more questions than he started with.

x x x

Jim doesn't say anything to Spock about what he learned. For one thing, Spock would undoubtedly ask how he came across the information, and revealing the reasons for his sudden interest in Vulcan sexuality seems like a really bad idea.

Instead he begins to pay close attention to Spock's actions towards him, trying to figure out if there might be something more than friendship there. Now that he's actually looking for it, he can see why his mother thought there was something going on between them. The way Spock acts around him, especially when they're alone, is night and day from the way he acts around everyone else.

Spock lets Jim touch him, welcomes it, even touches him back. Yet the briefest contact with anyone else has him shying away. He's relaxed around Jim in a way he isn't around anyone else. He's even let Jim watch him meditating a few times, and from everything Jim's read that's an incredibly private thing for Vulcans.

In a chess club meeting a few weeks into the semester, he watches as a dark-haired boy accidentally brushes Spock's fingers as they reach for the same chess piece. Spock pulls his hand back as if he's been burned. Later, Jim does the same thing deliberately during a private game, and gets nothing more than a strange look. He loses the game, but it feels like victory.

Of course, this state of affairs can't last forever. Five weeks into the semester comes Valentine's Day, and everything falls apart.

x x x

"So, do you have any plans for the holiday?" Spock asks, as they sit on Jim's bed doing homework.

Jim frowns, focused on reading over his essay on Andorian culture. "What holiday?"

"St Valentine's Day," Spock replies. "I was given to understand that it had some importance for humans."

Jim glances up with a smile. "Only if you have someone to share it with."

"And there is no one you wish to share the holiday with?" Spock asks.

Jim's heart starts to pound and he glances down again. "Well," he says quietly, "there is one person, but I…. I don't think they'd be interested."

"You have not asked them?" Spock sounds puzzled, and Jim grimaces, wishing this wasn't so hard.

"No," he replies, still staring at his PADD.

"Then perhaps you should."

The words are said with such conviction that Jim jerks his head up, wondering what, exactly, Spock means by that. His face is blank, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything.

"And if they don't want me?" he asks, mouth suddenly dry.

"Then they are a fool," Spock says simply.

With those words, something inside Jim snaps. Before he can think better of it, he leans forward and presses his lips against Spock's.

And for one glorious second, Spock kisses back. Their lips move against each other, and it's wonderful, and perfect, and everything Jim ever dreamed of. And then Spock breaks away, scrambling backwards with an expression of sheer terror, and Jim knows he's just made a terrible mistake.

"You," Spock says, still moving away from him. He fumbles for words and settles on, "No." Then, before Jim can respond, he turns and is gone.

Jim leaps off the bed and rushes after him, but he's already vanished. Jim stares down the hallway for a few moments, then numbly goes back to sit on his bed.

He draws his knees up to his chest, trying to breathe past the pain. Spock is the best friend he's ever had, and his stupid, _impulsive_ kiss might have just screwed up everything. He blinks back tears as it dawns on him that he's no better than that girl all those months ago, just taking what he wanted without giving a thought to what _Spock _wanted.

After a few minutes he grabs his communicator and tries to call Spock. There's no answer. He tries again, then again. The third time he gives up and leaves a message. "Spock? It's Jim. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you like that. It was wrong, and stupid, and I promise you it'll never happen again."

He hangs up and curls up in a ball on his bed. He stares at the wall, trying not to think, his hand tightening around the communicator until it begins digging grooves into his skin. He wills with everything in him for it to beep, for a message from Spock saying he's okay, that he's still Jim's friend and doesn't hate him. But the communicator stays silent, and Jim is left to wonder if he's screwed up the best thing he's ever had.

* * *

Spock dashes across the grounds, heedless of anything except the need to get away. He finds himself heading instinctively for his dorm room, his oasis of calm in a world that has suddenly turned upside down.

He makes it there in record time, dashing inside as if chased by a le-matya. He locks the door and then falls back against it, slipping down until he's sitting on the floor.

He takes a few deep breaths, trying to stop himself shaking. Jim. Jim kissed him. He wraps his arms around his knees tightly, fingers digging painfully into his flesh as he relives the memory. He tells himself it was a mistake, that it shouldn't mean anything, but all he can think about is how good it felt. The warmth of Jim's lips, the way they fit together so easily, the joy and affection and sheer Jim-ness that blazed through the contact.

He shouldn't have liked it. He certainly shouldn't want to do it again.

He does.

Spock pushes himself up off the floor and heads over to the area he has reserved for meditation. He lights a stick of incense with shaking hands, before dropping to the floor and focusing inwards. _I am a Vulcan. I can master this. I am a Vulcan…._

x x x

He meditates long into the night. When he finally goes to bed, his dreams are filled with Jim; Jim kissing him, holding him, stroking him. He wakes to sticky thighs and an almost physical longing for touch, and realises the meditation hasn't helped at all.

He skips class that day and goes to visit a healer at the Vulcan Embassy. He checks beforehand that his parents will not be there, but his father's schedule is clear. They are both back on Vulcan, and will not come to Earth for at least another month.

Vulcan patients are relatively rare outside of Vulcan, even in San Francisco, and the healer is able to fit him in without difficulty.

Spock checks his communicator on the way there, to find three messages, all from Jim. They are all apologies, with the last pleading with Spock to call him. Spock considers it, but he has no idea what to say. Jim deserves a clear response, whether positive or negative, and that is one thing Spock is currently incapable of. He wraps his arms around himself and longs for the days when he still thought romantic entanglements beyond him.

Spock arrives at the embassy shortly after 1000. The healer, Sotar, is an acquaintance of Spock's family, and in fact treated him several times when he was young. He is one of the few Vulcans who never judged Spock for being half-human, which is one of the reasons Spock has chosen him.

However, the fact that Sotar knows his parents is a concern, and Spock does not trust Sotar quite enough to overlook this concern. His first words when entering Sotar's office are, "Am I to understand that anything I say to you will be strictly confidential?"

Sotar frowns, just a little. "That is correct."

"And you will not tell my parents that I was here?"

"Not if you do not wish it."

Spock relaxes a fraction at the words. He clasps his hands behind his back, searching for words. "I am experiencing… unwanted emotions." He firmly ignores the little voice inside that insists the emotions are not unwanted. "Meditation has not helped. I wish to know how to rid myself of them."

"The goal is to control your emotions, not eradicate them," Sotar reminds him gently. "Perhaps if you told me the nature of the emotion that is causing bother."

Spock takes a breath, willing his cheeks not to heat. "Desire. Towards one who is not my intended." He hesitates, then adds, barely audible, "A male."

Sotar is silent for some time. "Spock," he says finally, "are these emotions truly unwanted, or is the problem that you believe them to be unacceptable?"

Spock stares at him uncomprehendingly. "Are they notunacceptable?"

Sotar's expression softens faintly. "No," he says. "They are not." He gestures to the seat in front of his desk. "Sit down, Spock."

Spock sits obediently. Sotar studies him for a moment, then begins, "Do you know why children are betrothed at the age of seven?"

"So that they will have a partner when they come into their time," Spock recites. All Vulcans know that.

"Yes. The matching is done as children so that the partners will have time to get to know each other before they reach full maturity." He steeples his fingers. "And to allow time for any… problems with the match to become apparent."

Spock swallows. "Problems?"

Sotar nods. "Attempts are made, of course, to ensure that the children in question are compatible, but it is impossible to anticipate every eventuality. To account for this, it is possible for betrothals to be annulled, given sufficient cause." He pauses briefly, before adding, "An inclination towards one's own sex would be considered sufficient cause."

For the second time in two days, Spock feels as though his world has turned upside down. He listens numbly as Sotar finishes, "If you wish, Spock, I can perform an examination, but based on what you have told me I do not believe there is anything wrong with you."

Spock finally finds his voice enough to ask, "It is not illogical?"

Sotar stares at him. "Would it be more logical to bond with someone you are incompatible with?"

He's never thought of it that way before. When he thinks of T'Pring at all, it is as a stranger, someone he knows only as a face and a name and a vague presence in his mind. He accepted that he would marry her someday, but he has never felt any attachment to her as a person. He has certainly never been attracted to her the way he is to Jim.

Sotar's voice brings him back to the present. "Do not mistake me. I am not suggesting that breaking your betrothal would be the best option. You will have to decide that for yourself." He pauses briefly. "If I may ask; this person you are drawn to, is he human?"

Spock nods.

Sotar frowns. "Humans can be very fickle with their attentions, Spock. Consider that, when you are making your choice."

Spock nods again, mind going a mile a minute. He badly needs to meditate, to assimilate this new information and figure out what to do next. "I appreciate your assistance," he says. "It appears I have much to think about."

He barely remembers the trip back to campus. Meditation is easier this time, but still leaves him with a whole host of unanswered questions. The visit to the healer may have calmed some of his fears, but he still does not feel ready to talk to Jim.

He wishes he could discuss the situation with someone else first. Someone who might understand, but is not involved. But the only people he is at all close to are Jim and his family, and he cannot talk about this with them.

Suddenly a memory comes back to him. Lauren. When he met her at the Halloween party, before all the unpleasantness of that night, she was attending with her _girlfriend_. They are not particularly close, but she has always been decent to him. Perhaps she would be able to answer some of his questions.

x x x

Lauren seems surprised when he contacts her for a meeting, but agrees to meet him in front of the mess hall after her classes.

"So what's this about?" she asks, as they sit down on the grass a careful distance from anyone else. Not that there are many people sitting outside in the middle of February.

Spock rubs his hands together as he searches for words. He is wearing the scarf and gloves that Jim's parents gave him, and he aches slightly whenever he looks at them. "You have a girlfriend," he begins slowly.

"Had a girlfriend," Lauren corrects. "We broke up."

"Ah," Spock says. Sotar's words ring in his ears, _Humans can be very fickle with their attentions, Spock_. He pushes the thought aside and attempts to continue. "When did you…. How did you…." He frowns in frustration and tries again. "How did you discover you were attracted to females?"

There's a long silence. Spock doesn't look at her, instead focusing on the grass in front of him. Eventually Lauren says quietly, "How about this. I'll answer your question, but only if you tell me why you want to know."

Spock does glances up at her, then. He supposes it is a valid request; his question must seem, to her, somewhat out of nowhere. But this is the second time he has had to explain his problem to someone, and it does not appear to be getting easier. "I am experiencing… emotions that I do not have a frame of reference for. I hoped perhaps you could… I believe the phrase is 'fill in the gaps'."

"Oh." Lauren chews on her lip for a moment, then shrugs. "Well, I don't know how much it'll help, but okay. I'll tell you." She takes a breath, then begins, "I was fifteen. My friends used to talk about the boys they liked, some of them even had boyfriends, and I just couldn't see the point of it all." She shakes her head. "Then this new girl joined our class – Maria, she was called. She was smart, and funny, and beautiful, and I finally realised what my friends meant when they talked about boys, except that for me it was girls." She looks back at him. "Does that answer your question?"

It does not sound terribly different to Spock's own story, apart from the part where he did not have any friends prior to meeting Jim. "Yes," he says. "I believe it does."

Lauren chews on her lip again, then asks quietly, "Then can I ask _you_ something?"

Spock nods.

"These feelings you've been having. Are they about Jim?" Spock just stares at her, and she adds quickly, "It's just that you're always together and I know a couple of people already think he's your boyfriend, so I was just wondering."

Spock glances around to make sure they are still alone before giving a quick nod. "I trust you will keep this confidential?" he asks, and Lauren nods.

"Yeah, of course. No problem." She gives him a tentative smile. "For what it's worth, he seems like a nice guy." She snorts and adds, "Not really my type, but you know. Generally."

"Yes," Spock says. "He is."

Spock stays there for some time after Lauren leaves, slowly getting his thoughts in order. He thinks of his father, imagining Sarek's reaction if he were to learn of Spock's feelings, then firmly shoves the thought aside. He has spent too long trying to live up to his father's impossible standards.

Instead, he thinks of Jim. Of warmth, and family, and easy acceptance. Of bright smiles, and comforting touches, and the knowledge that, for the first time in his life, he is not alone. Then he thinks about yesterday, the feeling of Jim's lips against his, and realises his choice has already been made. He still has questions, and doubts, but he's been hiding from his feelings his whole life. He's not going to do it anymore.

It is time to talk to Jim.

* * *

Jim is lying on his bed, trying to concentrate on his PADD but mostly just staring off into space, when the door buzzer sounds. He blinks, looks over at Ben – listening to music and utterly oblivious – then pulls himself up with a sigh and goes over to open the door.

Spock is standing on the other side. Jim's first instinct is joy and relief, but the serious look on Spock's face gives him pause. "May we talk?" Spock asks. His gaze flicks over to Ben. "Privately?"

Jim has to swallow hard before he can talk. "Yes. Yeah, of course."

He walks over to Ben and pulls out one of his earphones. Ben's eyes fly open. "What?" he grumbles. "I was enjoying that."

"Mind listening to it somewhere else?" Jim asks. He nods at Spock, adding, "Kinda need some privacy."

Having gotten most of the story last night after finding Jim curled in a miserable ball, Ben only takes a few seconds to make his connections and come to a decision. "Yeah, sure. Just give me a sec." He jumps up, shoves a few things into his bag, and is out the door in under a minute.

Once the door has shut behind him, Jim turns to Spock. "Do you… want to sit down?" he asks.

Spock nods, and the two of them sit down on Jim's bed. Spock leaves an obvious gap between them, which makes Jim's chest ache. _He doesn't trust me._

"I am so, so sorry about what happened," he says. "I should never have touched you like that. It was stupid, and thoughtless, and I'm sorry."

But Spock doesn't seem interested in his apologies. "Did you mean it?" he asks slowly.

"What?" Jim asks, caught off guard.

Spock's gaze is oddly intent as he looks at Jim. "When you kissed me. Did you mean it?"

Jim considers lying, but Spock deserves better than that. "Yes," he says. "I like you a lot, more than I've ever liked anyone." Spock nods, and Jim continues quickly, "But it doesn't have to change anything. I can control my feelings, I've done it before. Please don't let this ruin our friendship."

Spock is silent for a long moment. "Our friendship is precious to me as well," he says finally. He looks down at his hands and takes a deep breath. "You are aware that my childhood was… difficult. The other children shunned me, so I spent a great deal of time alone. Eventually I convinced myself I preferred it that way." He glances up at Jim. "Then I met you, and I could no longer convince myself I was better off alone."

Jim aches to reach out to him, but stays his hand. To his surprise, it's Spock who reaches out to him, taking his hand and holding it tightly.

"There are things I have to tell you," Spock says.

Jim nods, struggling to focus on anything but the warmth of Spock's fingers against his. "I'm listening."

Spock takes a deep breath and begins. "When I was seven years old I was betrothed to a Vulcan girl called T'Pring. We were not close, in fact I have not seen her in years, but the betrothal still stands." He pauses, as if searching for words. "Your… feelings are not unrequited, Jim, but I am… hesitant to break off the arrangement for a relationship that may well be temporary."

Jim's heart speeds up at the knowledge that Spock _does_ have feelings for him, but he forces himself to slow down and consider the rest of Spock's words. "But you _could _break this arrangement if you wanted to?" he asks.

To his surprise, a faint streak of green appears on Spock's cheeks. "I consulted a healer. There are several ways to dissolve a betrothal, one of which is the indication of homosexuality of at least one partner." One corner of his mouth twitches upwards as he adds, "It appears I was not correct when I told you such relationships would be considered illogical."

Jim decides now would be an excellent time not to mention that he already knew that. "Are you saying you want me?" he asks instead. "The way I want you?"

Spock nods, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "You will have to be patient with me," he warns. "My knowledge of… physical intimacy is somewhat limited and strictly theoretical."

Jim smiles. "That's fine by me," he says. "There's a lot of stuff I haven't done either. We'll figure it out together." Then his mind is drawn back to the start of Spock's admission, and he frowns. "But what about T'Pring?"

Spock swallows, glancing down at their clasped hands. "It is complicated. There are things I cannot tell you, but it would be… unwise for me to break the betrothal without another partner to take her place." His eyes meet Jim's. "A _permanent _partner."

Spock doesn't ask the obvious question, and if he's honest, Jim's a little glad of that. He likes Spock a lot, actually he's pretty sure he loves Spock, but they're still teenagers. There's no way he can promise forever. "So you're just going to leave it?" he says. He isn't sure how to feel about that.

"For now," Spock says. "If we are still together when the time comes for me to marry her, you can decide whether to take her place."

"And your… fiancée won't mind that you're involved with someone else?"

Spock frowns. "I cannot see why she would." At Jim's disbelieving look, he adds, "You are viewing the situation through human eyes. A Vulcan betrothal is more like a business arrangement, with little to no emotion involved."

It sounds awful. Jim makes a promise to himself that, whatever happens, he won't let Spock marry someone who doesn't love him. "You deserve more than that," he says, and the look in Spock's eyes makes him hurt, like Spock doesn't quite believe it.

Jim wants nothing more than to kiss him and hold him and show him how wonderful he is and how much he deserves to be loved, but he knows that isn't what Spock needs right now. What Spock needs is for Jim to respect his boundaries. So instead he strokes his thumb across the back of Spock's hand and asks, "Can I kiss you?"

Spock's eyes darken and he licks his lips unconsciously. "I would like that," he says.

Jim smiles and leans in. Spock, true to his word, is inexperienced at best, but he's a quick learner, and this kiss is a hundred times better than the last one. To Jim's surprise, when they finally break apart it's Spock who's the first to move back in, as though he can't get enough. They don't go any further than kissing, but Jim doesn't care. Right now he thinks he could do this forever.

* * *

They sleep that night in the same bed, just holding each other. They're both clad in nightclothes, but it's still the closest Spock's been to another person since he was a small child.

He wakes up in the middle of the night to find Jim curled against his chest. Spock lies there, watching him sleep, and for the first time in his life feels truly content.


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Three Years Later

Spock has to force himself not to smile as Jim stares around them in awe, taking in Spock's new science officer's quarters. "I can't believe I'm here," Jim says. "The _Enterprise_. The flagship!" He turns to Spock with a grin. "I knew there was a reason I was dating you."

"I was under the impression it was for the… how did you put it? 'Amazing sex'," Spock replies, raising an eyebrow.

Jim laughs. "Well, that too."

"In any case," Spock continues, "I merely mentioned your name to Captain Pike. It was your own superlative record that got you a position here." Pike had, in fact, seemed quite enthusiastic at the prospect of having Jim Kirk as one of his ensigns.

"And the fact that you wouldn't have left Earth without me had nothing to do with it," Jim says, smiling. "You're not fooling me, you know."

He steps forward and wraps his arms around Spock's waist, kissing him gently on the lips. "I love you," he says softly.

"And I you," Spock returns, letting his affection slip through into his voice and face.

Jim smiles broadly, then takes a step back. "You know," he says, "I looked in the regs, and there's a line in there about how they never separate married couples."

It takes Spock a few seconds to catch on to his meaning, and then he almost can't believe it. "Are you suggesting…?"

Jim nods, beaming. "I've been thinking about it a lot, and I'm ready. I was just waiting for the right time to tell you."

Pure love washes over Spock at the words, and he can't keep himself from stepping forward and kissing Jim. The kiss soon become more heated, and they begin moving towards the bed, shedding clothes along the way.

Jim laughs as Spock pushes him down onto the bed. "I should ask you to marry me more often," he says, before his words are washed away by Spock's skilful hands.

They curl around each other afterwards, transmitting love and affection wherever their skin touches. Spock strokes his fingers against Jim's gently, imagining the prospect of being fully bonded with him. He finds he cannot wait.

"Do you think," Jim says, "if we hadn't met at the chess club all those years ago, we would've still ended up together?"

The probability is remote, Spock knows. Likely they would have been posted to different ships and never even met. But looking into Jim's eyes, probability ceases to matter. "I think," he replies slowly, "we would have found a way."

Jim smiles.


End file.
